His Wyrda
by EmeraldArya
Summary: Set after Eldest in Ellesmera, this is the story of Eragon and Arya's struggling relationship as the war rages on around them. Eventually Eragon/Arya. Rated M for violence/ torture scenes and a lemon or two.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. That's why this is called fan fiction.

**His Wyrda**

**Prologue**

A shiver traveled down the length of Eragon's spine. He couldn't believe he was here. He had waited so terribly long for this. He had dreamed of this moment day and night for as long as he cared to remember.

His lips brushed delicately along her flawless porcelain skin, and his fingertips danced lightly along every surface of her body. Her quiet gasp of pleasure took him by surprise. He still could not accept that she longed for him as badly as he longed for her. All this time, she had refused him while still desperately craving him on the inside.

Her hand slid slowly up the bare skin of his muscled back which instantly caused his heart to race uncontrollably. This couldn't be real, but as he gazed down the entire length of her exquisite body below him, he knew that it was. He brought his lips down to hers hesitantly and pressed his mouth tenderly against hers. The feeling was indescribable. The sensation of her lips moving passionately against his was complete and total ecstasy. He had never felt so alive.

They had endured so much to arrive at this place in time. Endless heartbreak and agony had consumed their forbidden relationship. By all the rules of the world, the two shouldn't be together. A devastating war raged around them, and they both were propelled into the midst of it by forces beyond their control. But death had nearly pulled them from their fate once before, and the cataclysmic revelations that followed had served to finally bring them together.

Eragon knew he would never let her go again. His fingers caressed her soft midnight hair as he deepened their kiss. Her body shifted under his, and his skin pressed closer against the soft expanse of hers. She brought her hands up to his face slowly and tangled her fingertips in his thick hair. They melted against each other as their love daringly challenged the fate of the universe.

**Author's Note: Hey! I hope you liked it. I know its short, but that's because it is teaser for the real story. Chapter 1 is up now!**


	2. Chapter 1

**His Wyrda**

**Chapter 1**

Eragon stepped carefully out of his beautiful tree home, testing the very currents of the early-morning air with his new Elvin senses. The entire forest exuded life, growth. He breathed it all in wondrously. The awe of Ellesmera still occasionally took him by surprise. He looked up as Saphira drifted lazily down to meet him at the base of their tree. Eragon instinctively reached a hand out to touch the brilliant sapphire scales of her rock-hard skin. He patted her softly as she arched her entire body to stretch her rippling muscles.

She hummed contentedly and said, _"Beautiful day, little one. Is it not?"_

"Hmm…" agreed Eragon, distracted by his thoughts.

This was his third week in Ellesmera, at the heart of Du Weldenvarden, where his second round of training was commencing. He tensed then relaxed each of his muscles, feeling the slight throb present in all his limbs. He was sore in places he did not think possible.

Upon his return, Eragon had resumed his sparring with Vanir. But now, the task was unbelievable harder since a second opponent would join Vanir in the fight. A different elf would assist Vanir each day, so that Eragon had no chance of becoming accustomed to their fighting style. His mental training was harder than ever, and he was proud of his growing success at every task Oromis and Glaedr set before him.

His thoughts drifted to the Battle of the Burning Plains. A vision of Murtagh's accusing finger pointing down at him clouded his vision. Ignoring the mental agony thoughts of Murtagh produced, Eragon pushed the dulling pain to the back of his mind. The events that had occurred during the weeks following the battle whirled through his head like a whirlwind.

King Hrothgar's funeral- the mourning faces of the heart-broken dwarves laying Hrothgar into his eternal resting place of stone. The haggard face of Nasuada- doing her best to regroup and reorganize the chaotic dealings of the Varden. Eragon felt a surge of pride for the young leader. She was doing Ajihad proud as his daughter and as his successor, keeping her voice strong, asserting her authority, but also showing compassion when the situation called.

Yes, Nasuada was doing just fine. However, at the time, Eragon had not been as well glued together. For the most part, he had managed to keep his face clear of the emotions boiling inside him. He spoke strong, proud words at Hrothgar's funeral. He kept his peace around the soldiers, not wanting to show weakness as the Varden's only rider. Yes, he too was doing just fine- on the surface.

Only those close to him knew the truth behind the blank expression of his face and the tight control he kept over his eyes. Of course, he could hide nothing from Saphira. She knew him backwards and forwards, and during this time, Eragon found himself thanking whatever gods that be for giving him a companion who could understand his deepest thoughts and insecurities. But Saphira was not alone in her knowledge of Eragon's suffering.

Orik had noticed how Saphira would become nervous if a crowd pressed too close to Eragon. How she would anxiously check his face every few moments to make sure he would not break down in front of a large group. Nasuada had also studied the dark purple rings forming underneath Eragon's emotionless eyes. She had felt him flinch at every mention of Murtagh or Morzan, but her duties demanded all of her time, so she had little opportunity to discuss Eragon's grief. And then there was Arya.

Eragon found himself incapable of hiding anything from the elf. Every time her deep emerald green eyes pierced into his own, it was as if he no longer had the strength or will to keep up his defenses. She seemed to see down to his very soul every time her eyes locked with his. This frightened Eragon that he could hide nothing from her and caused paradoxical emotions to arise in him each time he saw her.

The sensible part of his mind told him to run for it, to avoid her if at all possible. For one, he did not like being so easy to read. His emotions and pain should be his own, not broadcast uncontrollably to the flawless elf by his traitor eyes. Also, Eragon was afraid of how much of him Arya would see, how much she would read in his eyes. He labored intensely with himself to control his feelings, but he was certain that when her icy stare froze him in his place, he would not be able to reign in his tumultuous thoughts.

He decided that Arya clearly had no interest in him romantically, and he had no desire to isolate himself further from her by letting his eyes confess his profound love every time she looked at him. No, that would not help things at all. So, for all of these reasons, he attempted to avoid Arya all together. He did not entirely succeed.

The not-so-logical side of Eragon's mind fought the idea of avoiding Arya immensely. He wanted to see her, to talk to her, to hear her musical voice. Her presence always soothed him. When Eragon felt he was at a breaking point, Arya was the one to bring him together again. He just had to make sure to not look at her eyes.

Eragon snorted with quiet humor as he wondered what Arya had thought of him during his moments of incoherent contradictions. Saphira huffed with him as she listened to his thoughts.

"She must think me so strange, Saphira. My heart explodes upon seeing her, and I feel like I could never leave her side. But then, as soon as she is about to say something to me, I find some reason to excuse myself and bolt. No question about it. She must think me a madman."

"_Not necessarily," _Saphira stated slowly. _"I only think she is concerned for you. You may be able to hide your thoughts from most, but Arya has known you too long for that."_

Eragon whirled around to face his dragon. "What did she say to you? What haven't you told me?" he hissed at her.

Saphira regarded him calmly. _"The conversations between Arya and I are private. I find the idea of breaking an elf's trust, especially an elf as powerful as Arya, very unappealing." _

Eragon regarded Saphira's smug expression and turned abruptly away, blustering in anger.

After stomping around Du Weldenvarden for nearly ten minutes, Eragon forced himself to come to a halt. He knew he was being unreasonable. Saphira had every right to converse with anyone she chose to, and she also had the right to keep those words hidden from him. If it had been about anyone other than a specific raven-haired elf, Eragon would not have had a problem. But this, this was about Arya.

Any opportunity to understand the complexities of her mind excited Eragon immensely. His own conversations with Arya were pleasant enough on the surface, but he always found that at the end of these conversations that he had learned little about her, if anything at all. The chance to hear her thoughts with Saphira, especially her thoughts about him, was driving him completely insane. "_Stop it!" _he commanded himself. "_Oromis has trained you better than this."_

Eragon took a deep breath to steady himself and returned to Saphira. She eyed him warily. 'I am sorry. I should not have reacted as such."

"_I'm just glad your little tantrum is over. It would have been quite embarrassing if anyone had seen you puffed up like a blowfish." _

He smiled at her, happy to be forgiven. "I'm glad you think so highly of me," he retorted.

Continuing as before, dragon and rider proceeded with their morning walk. Eragon paused for a moment to stand before a glistening streambed, and Saphira took the opportunity to study her rider.

His tousled, wavy hair hung only an inch or so above his shoulders. The slight breeze that whispered through the tree trunks played with the ends of it gently. Before, his hair had been quite long, but he had cut it upon arriving in Ellesmera. Eragon had expressed to Saphira that keeping his unruly hair long while around the elves' perfectly straight locks would make him appear scraggly and unkempt. But Eragon had not cut it too short. Saphira found the way his long bangs would occasionally fall down over his eyes to be rather endearing.

Eragon had changed so much since leaving Carvahall. His intense training had shaped his body into a hard mass of rippling strength. But his impressive muscles made him anything but stocky due to the Elvin influences from his transformation at the Agaeti Blodhren. His grace and flowing movements made him at home in Du Weldenvarden, but the squareness of his shoulders and the defined muscles of his chest, biceps, and legs were completely unique among the elves.

Saphira hummed quietly to herself as they resumed their walk. Her rider was turning out just fine. One day she knew he would find someone to spend the rest of his long life with, and that woman would be lucky indeed to find herself with Eragon Shadeslayer.

They continued on at an easy pace to the training fields, so Eragon could spar with Vanir and whatever elf decided to join them today. The pine needles rustled gently underneath their feet as they made their way along the faint trails beneath the majestic pines of Ellesmera. Soon they drew near to a small group of elves conversing quietly in their harmonious voices.

"Aye. I hear that she will arrive sometime this morning."

"I heard that as well. It will be good to see the Princess again. She has spent too long away from our city. The atmosphere of the human world would surly dampen any person's spirits."

"Hush now, Naduwen!" said the tallest elf sharply. "Mind your words and their implications."

When Eragon stepped past them, he carefully placed a distracted look on his face, as if he had been too preoccupied to notice their conversation. When a safe distance had passed between Eragon and the elves, he let out a gust of air he had not realized he was holding. He had unconsciously stopped breathing the moment his sensitive ears had registered the word "princess." He knew of only one princess, and the elf's reproached comment confirmed what he expected, nay, hoped for. _Arya. _

Letting his thoughts drift across his mental connection with Saphira he said, _"Why would Arya be returning to Ellesmera? Especially so soon! You don't think anything has happened, do you? Surely we would have sensed something…" _

Saphira cut off his worried rant. _"I would imagine her duties as ambassador require as much time here in Du Weldenvarden as they do with the Varden. Especially now that the elves are preparing for war." _

Eragon smiled up at her, relief on his face. "That makes a great deal of sense. I had simply not thought of it from that angle before."

"_Well, that is why you need me, dear rider." _

Humor flashed in Eragon's eyes. "Saphira, you complete me," he said while drawing an imaginary circle in the air with his fingertips.

A sudden blast of hot air hit Eragon in the back, tipping him over as Saphira snorted with mock anger. _"We'll see how complete you are when I'm done with you!" _

They both continued towards the training grounds in comfortable silence, and Eragon's thoughts drifted back to Arya. The rush he felt when discovering her approaching arrival and the frantic speeding of his heartbeat when picturing her face threatened to overcome him. Arya thought his affections to be nothing more than boyish fantasies, but Eragon knew differently.

What he felt for Arya was the realest thing he had ever experienced. But during his meditations under Oromis-ebrithyl, Eragon had doggedly set up his resolve to not pursue Arya anymore. _Well, perhaps after all this fighting ceases…_ Eragon pushed it from his mind. He was as stubborn as they come, and he intended to use this stubbornness for good this once. He would not follow Arya around like a love-sick child, of that he was certain. But he had also decided that attempting to avoid her, like he had done in Surda, would not be acceptable. It would be considered rude and hostile by Elvin politics' standards, but political reasons were not his only ones.

While he was avoiding Arya, it had eaten him up from the inside. He felt hollow in his core, as if a crucial part of him was missing. Over the past year, Eragon had begun to rely on Arya. Her advice and friendship were now crucial to his central make-up. He could not risk isolating himself from her by thoughtlessly pursuing romance. It would be like tearing a part of his soul away.

So it was with this resolve that Eragon drew towards the crowd forming at the edge of a pathway leading from outside the city. His sensitive ears picked up the soft footfalls of an Elvin steed, and he sensed a presence that was now as familiar to him as his very own. He kept back away from the line of eager elves in favor of leaning slightly against a tall pine a small distance away from the gathering. As calls of "Hail, Princess!" and "Welcome home!" echoed mutely in the forest, the wind shifted and carried the exotic scent of crushed pine needles to Eragon's heightened nose. The scent intoxicated him, and he was instantly glad for the support of the tree he leaned against. _Arya. _

The group of elves parted, making way for Arya and her steed to come through. Amazed, Eragon stared at her unthinkable beauty. His lips parted slightly, and he felt as if all the air had been forced from his lungs. He clamped his jaw shut with a wry thought of his pledge to control himself. With the lithe grace only elves possessed, Arya slipped out of the saddle and sprang lightly to the ground.

She smiled politely at the greetings of the gathered elves and responded in kind. Eragon knew her face well enough to see that she was growing weary of the pleasantries, but he also discerned relief dancing behind her eyes. Perhaps he was not the only one glad to be back in Ellesmera.

After many of the elves had drifted away, Eragon slowly moved forward to greet Arya. The Elvin princess turned suddenly from the light-haired elf she had been conversing with and looked directly at Eragon. His breath caught at her sudden stare. Practically as one, the rest of the elves looked up at Eragon, noticing him for the first time. He tore himself away from Arya's stare to touch two fingers to his lips in greeting to the elves. Then, with a determined gleam in his eye, he turned back to Arya and met her stare. There was concern in her eyes, but he also thought he saw something else as she studied him. _Probably wondering if my sanity has returned_. He pushed the thought from his mind and smiled hugely at her. "Atra esterni ono thelduin."

"Atra du evarinya ono varda."

"Un atra mor'ranr lifa unin hjarta onr," he completed the traditional greeting.

The edges of her lips curved upward in a slight smile. It was faint but definitely there. "It is truly good to see you, Eragon."

Eragon smiled even bigger as he noticed the warmth in her voice that had not been there with the other elves. Also, it didn't hurt that she was speaking in the Ancient Language.

"Arya Svit-kona," he replied, "the pleasure is all mine."

Saphira managed to tear herself away from the group of elves praising her beauty and wondrous strength to come and greet Arya. The two proceeded to have a conversation oblivious to Eragon as he contemplated his and Arya's brief exchange. He had not faired too badly. Pleased with himself, he mused over the warmth that had blossomed inside him upon speaking with her. He was right on pursuing their friendship. Just these few brief moments with her had erased all his tension, and he felt refreshed and renewed.

Arya turned her head gracefully so that she was facing both Eragon and Saphira. "If you both will excuse me," she said softly. "I apologize for my abrupt departure, but I must report to the Queen."

Eragon searched her eyes until he concluded that she really was sorry to go and not simply avoiding him. His confidence restored, he threw her another smile and said, "Perhaps another time then."

Arya nodded slightly and said almost to herself, "You have changed much since I last saw you in Surda." And with that she turned and walked towards her mother's throne room.

Excitement overwhelming him, Eragon turned and beamed at Saphira. Climbing quickly to his place on her back, he energetically told her, "Let us be off quickly! We have already missed my sparring with Vanir, and we would do well not to keep Master Oromis and Glaedr waiting."

Saphira pushed off the forest floor with a mighty thrust, soaring high into the air. She gracefully side-spinned though the air, dipping and turning as she let Eragon's enthusiasm permeate through their mental link.

...

**Author's Note: I hope you liked it. Please, please review! It doesn't have to be a paragraph or anything, just give me a word or two. The next chapter will be up in a few days, faster if I get a lot of reviews. :)**


	3. Chapter 2

**His Wyrda**

**Chapter 2**

A week passed by quickly with Eragon continuing his training throughout the morning and retiring early in the evening, falling into his dream-like state with exhaustion. This afternoon was no different. Eragon sat on his bed eating his evening meal without really tasting it. He was too exhausted. Feeling slightly depressed, he opened his mind to Saphira, too tired to bother speaking out loud.

"_Saphira, I fear I cannot continue on at this grueling pace. As I study my scrolls, I find myself re-reading section after section because of my mind drifting so often."_

"_I have noticed, little one. Perhaps Oromis is pushing you too hard." _

"_But I want to learn and continue to get stronger. The fate of Alagaesia is being placed on my shoulders by the Varden and the elves. I just wish for us both to have some time to think. We never seem to fly together like we once did." _

Saphira humped in agreement.

"_Also, I was so excited about Arya's return to Ellesmera, but I have only seen her twice since her arrival and even then there was no time for talk. It seems as if she is kept as busy as we are with her duties." _

"_I believe you are right about this for once, Eragon. If we wish to perform at our bests, we need time to recuperate. Tomorrow I believe we should breach the matter with Oromis-ebrithil." _

"Aye," mumbled Eragon as his eyelids drifted shut and he passed into a trance-like sleep.

Saphira eyed her young rider with worried eyes. He was stronger than anyone knew, but she feared no one could continue at the pace he was enduring. She curled up into a ball as she let sleep take her as well.

...

The next morning, light filtered into Eragon's tree-home lazily, and a soft breeze whished peacefully through his home. _Baammp!! _Both Eragon and Saphira jolted awake. He was in the process of bolting for his dagger when Eragon came to his senses.

"Ugh…" he moaned as looked down at the screaming timepiece Oromis had given him. He rewound it carefully and looked sheepishly over at Saphira. She pulled her lips back in what he recognized as a smile.

"Morning, Saphira."

"_Morning, little one. Today we talk to Oromis about some time off." _

"I dread that conversation. I do not wish him to think I am weak."

"_He will not think you as weak, only wise for realizing your limits," _she stated firmly.

"I hope you are right," replied Eragon.

They continued with their morning rituals then proceeded to the training fields. There, Vanir stood waiting for them, standing casually beside a great tree. Eragon let out a muted groan upon noticing the two elves that stood at Vanir's side.

"_Two! I can barely take on Vanir, much less with two elves helping him," _he thought desperately to Saphira. He recognized the two light-haired elves from previous sparring sessions, and he knew both of them to be highly skilled.

"_I am here with you, Eragon," _Saphira stated reassuringly.

"_And I will need you, my dragon," _thought Eragon wryly. Vanir and the elves exchanged greetings with him as they walked to the center of the training field.

"_Let it begin," _Eragon thought grimly as he drew his borrowed Elvin sword. After the four of them dulled their blades with magic, the two light-haired elves rushed forward.

His Elvin senses kicked into overdrive and everything seemed to slow down. Eragon parried each of the blows with ease, and he noticed Vanir had not yet joined the fight. He stood at the back, his swift eyes following the fight with unnerving precision. _"He's waiting for my defenses to slip!" _Eragon thought hastily. He continued to dance with the two elves until seconds stretched into minutes, all the while keeping a tight watch on Vanir.

Suddenly, the two elves whirled around him, forcing him to turn his back on Vanir in order to field off their blows. Eragon felt rather than saw Vanir's charge. He slid quickly down on one knee, ducking at the last moment to avoid Vanir's powerful swing. Sliding backwards across the ground, he kicked his leg out at the precise moment one of the elves ran forward.

Eragon winced as shin met shin and the elf tumbled down, landing hard on his elbows. Knowing he probably wouldn't get such a chance again, Eragon leapt into the air, flipping quickly to dodge a carefully placed swipe by Vanir, and landed on top of the grounded elf. He swiftly brought his blade up to the elf's throat and said, "Dead."

Without allowing himself time to celebrate, Eragon sprang quickly at the elf's unsuspecting partner. Surprise showed in the light-haired elf as he instinctively brought his sword up to meet Eragon's. But his actions were too slow. Eragon jumped higher into the air and slid his blade down the elf's, twisting his wrist at just the right moment and wrenching the sword from the elf's grasp.

It whirled through the air, end over end, until finally sticking its point deep into the earth several stone-throws away. Eagerly, Eragon charged at the weaponless elf.

"_Eragon, behind you!" _Saphira's words reached him with just barely enough time for Eragon to block Vanir's slash to his throat.

"_Thank you," _he shot out to Saphira's mind.

"_Don't mention it. Now focus!" _

Eragon positioned himself between the elf and his lost blade, effectively preventing him from retrieving it. But no matter what maneuvers Eragon tried, he could not shake Vanir off long enough to "kill" the elf.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he saw an opening in Vanir's defenses. Feinting to the right, then smoothly reversing down and to the left, Eragon brought his sword down hard on Vanir's thigh. Even with the dulled blade, the blow caused a sickening crack in Vanir's leg. A subdued cry passed through Vanir's lips, and the anguish in it caused Eragon to flinch. He briefly considered if he had gone too far, but he had no time to because Vanir swept his leg around and brought his heel hard into the inside of Eragon's knee.

His leg buckled beneath him, and Eragon went down. Movement registered in the corner of his eye, and he turned to see the other elf using the opportunity to make a wild dash for his blade. Eragon knew he must end this duel quickly, for he already felt his strength fading. _I can't let him retrieve his sword! _Drawing on his last vestiges of strength, Eragon caught Vanir's arm in mid-swing and twisted it behind his back while at the same time twirling his own blade up to Vanir's throat.

Then, kicking off of Vanir's back, Eragon leapt through the air to land beside the running elf, mere moments before he would have reached his blade. Eragon pointed his sword at the elf's heart, and lowered it as the elf bowed in defeat.

His breath still coming in ragged gasps, Eragon stumbled over to Vanir to apologize for wounding him. While Eragon knelt over his thigh and mumbled, "Weise heill," Vanir said to him, "There is nothing to apologize for, Shadeslayer. Once again, it is an honor to have been bested by you. I have never seen the likes of swordsmanship displayed here today."

"Indeed, that was an impressive display, Eragon. I am deeply impressed. Your skills have improved ten-fold since the start of your training."

Shock colored Eragon's face as he whirled to find the all-to-familiar voice. Her lilting declaration was soft and gentle with quite a bit of awe behind it from where she stood at the edge of the training field. The three elves next to him bowed respectfully to the beautiful she-elf before them.

"Arya Dröttningu." Vanir spoke respectfully in greeting, his two fingers pressed to his lips. Eragon could only stand there wide-eyed before her.

"_How long has she been standing there?" _Eragon shoved the thought at Saphira.

Humor laced her voice as she replied, _"Awhile." _

"_How long, Saphira!" _he shouted across their mental link.

"_Oh, if you must know. Arya arrived shortly after you began sparring." _Eragon was stunned into silence. _"The whole time," _he thought absently. Several seconds later, he returned his attention to his surroundings. Looking around quickly, he noticed the other elves were staring at him strangely while Arya stood there calmly, her lips curled into a humor-filled half smile.

Realization dawned on Eragon as he concluded that he had yet to greet the princess of the elves. He realized that he had yet to do _anything_ but stand there stupidly before her. Blushing deeply, he touched his fingers to his lips and spoke the traditional greeting. The other elves relaxed visibly, made a few more comments about Eragon's skilled swordsmanship, then turned to leave with polite nods to Arya.

Eragon met Arya's gaze and smiled at her. His weariness from the long fight vanished as he lost himself in her emerald eyes. Remembering his pledge of self control, Eragon squared his shoulders and said amiably, "Thank you for your kind words. So what brings you here this morning, Arya? It is a pleasure to see you, of course, but I did not expect you here." He let his wonder at her presence carry slightly over in his words.

"Well, I had business with an elf who resides a league from here. I was on my way there when I heard your sparring, and I decided to stay and watch."

Her voice lowered as she said, "I knew you must have improved since I last witnessed you fight, but what you've accomplished is truly astounding. I couldn't seem to leave."

She smiled at him then, and Eragon caught that same confusing glint in her eye that he noticed a week ago at their first meeting, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. "Though I seem to have missed my appointment because of my lost track of time."

Eragon studied her face and perceived the tired edge in her eyes and the hint of weariness in her voice. He doubted he would have noticed it at all if he were not so attuned to her minute facial expressions. He appraised her mood carefully before proceeding, desperately hoping she would not be offended.

"Arya, it seems as though you have been quite busy since arriving here. Each time I see you, you are surrounded by delegates and council members."

She studied him intently for several long moments. At last, he let out an internal sigh of relief when she gave him a weary smile. "Aye. I have been quite occupied with all of the political intricacies of my people."

She looked as if she was going to say more, but at that moment a young messenger elf ran lithely up before them and nodded quickly to them both. "Lady Arya, Shadeslayer." Turning to Arya he said, "Queen Islanzadi requests your presence at the throne room as soon as possible."

"I will be there shortly," she replied with all the authority of Elvin royalty.

When the messenger had gone, Arya sighed slightly and looked up at Eragon. "I am needed elsewhere. Perhaps someday I can conduct a decent conversation without being rushed away."

Eragon knew Arya preferred battle tactics and maneuvers to endless politics, and he wondered briefly why she does it.

"_Because it is her duty, little one. Just like it is ours to become strong enough to defeat Galbatorix." _Eragon pondered Saphira's words as Arya turned to leave. "Oh, Arya?"

She turned back to look at him expectantly. "I would like sometime for us to be able to catch up on everything that has occurred recently. I would enjoy hearing of your travels, and I am curious to what has befallen the Varden since my departure."

He kept his face as guarded as hers throughout his inquiry, but inside he was desperately anxious to hear her response. After several long moments that seemed like an eternity, Arya nodded.

"Yes, that would be agreeable to me as well."

It took most of Eragon's will to keep himself from embracing her right then and there. But somehow he managed to restrain himself as she walked away. Saphira padded up beside him.

"_It is a good thing you decided to control yourself. Though…" _she said playfully, _"it would have been amusing to watch her throw you into a tree." _

Eragon did not respond, for he was too happy at the thought of seeing Arya again to be affected by Saphira's jibes. As she was walking away, Arya's lips twitched into a smile. Saphira had thoughtlessly broadcast her last statement to everyone within average hearing distance, namely Arya.

...

Eragon relaxed every one of his tired muscles as he focused on the rhythmic beating of Saphira's massive wings. The two of them soared high above the tall trees of Du Weldenvarden with the icy air rushing about their bodies. The orange sun shimmered as it completed its slow descent across the sky.

Eragon sighed contentedly. If only all moments could be like this. Just he and his dragon, soaring high above the world as the day turned into peaceful night. All to soon, Saphira began her plunge to the ground and the once small treetops grew into enormous proportion as they circled down to their tree.

The talk with Oromis had gone well. Their master had agreed to give Saphira and Eragon a day's rest every seventh day, the first break being tomorrow. Eragon had marveled at Oromis's acceptance of his request, but he also harbored a slight suspension that Oromis desired some time off as well.

"_Glaedr mentioned to me to me that his rider's strength fades each day. Oromis-ebrithil pretends to feel well, but Glaedr is worried." _Sorrow tinged Saphira's voice as she spoke to Eragon. _"I hope he does not push himself too far." _

"Oromis-ebrithil does seem to tire easily these days. Perhaps a day of rest will do him good as well," he replied.

...

**Author's Note: Hello, again. Thank all of you for reading so far! Sorry if this chapter was a bit slow. Basically, it was just a filler to set up the story. Things really start happening in Chapter 4!**

**Here's a shout out to all my reviewers! Lots of love to all of you:** claire1992, Julian Blake, Aeronnen, and oakel

**Also, a big thank you to everyone who put me on their alert/ favorite list:** Aeronnen, Alyra90, claire1992, Connor, Grimindome, Julian Blake, and Du Moi abr Wyrda

**You guys are awesome!**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey, everybody! I hope you like the fast updates. Okay, a little bit about this chapter... This was the first scene I ever imagined for this story. Basically, this chapter started the whole nagging idea in my head. So, I am sorry if its just a bunch of crap, but I just couldn't bear to cut it out of the story. I guess I'm emotionally attached...**

**Also, in answer to oakel's question, Eragon and Arya will definately get together, but they have a lot of pain to go through first. I didn't think it would be realistic if they jumped into bed immediately after the Battle of the Burning Plains. But don't worry, it won't be too long from now...**

**His Wyrda**

**Chapter 3**

Eragon allowed himself to slowly rise into consciousness. Stretching lazily, he crawled out of his warm bed. A soft wind floated in from his open wall, cool against his bare chest. He sensed that Saphira was still asleep, so he slipped quietly to the wash room to bathe. He lingered longer than usual, letting the warm water caress his sore muscles. After all, he had nowhere to be presently and was in no hurry.

Eragon dressed in a light Elvin tunic of soft yellow and his traditional leather breeches. The tunic was one of his favorites because of its superior softness, and he did not wear it often to training for fear of ruining it. Several weeks ago, Saphira had complimented him by saying the color looked especially pleasant against his bronze skin., and as he recalled the conversation, Eragon felt himself blush self-consciously.

Peacefully, he went to stand at the edge of the open wall Saphira uses to enter and exit and breathed in the fresh morning air. It was so exhilarating to stand high above the forest floor looking out over Ellesmera. Rising to her feet behind Eragon, Saphira folded her wings close in next to her body then jetted out the space beside him. She flapped her powerful wings just once and soared high into the crisp air. Circling down past the tree again, she called to Eragon, _"Shall we, dear rider?" _

"Do you even have to ask?" he replied as he leapt from the tree's edge, free-falling until she swooped under him at the last moment.

They flew together like that for several hours, losing themselves above the endless expanse of trees below them. Finally, Eragon's stomach began unhappy murmurings of neglect, and Saphira returned them to their tree.

After fixing himself a plate heaping with greens and fruits, Eragon turned to look quizzically at Saphira. "Do you wish to go hunting? I could accompany you if you would like."

"_Hmm…" _thought Saphira. _"It has been so long since I have had decent prey. I was considering earlier whether or not to extend my search deeper into Du Weldenvarden. Though, the trip would take several hours there and back." _

"Of course, Saphira! You deserve a break from the small prey you've been enduring. Go find yourself something worth chasing."

Eragon could feel the excitement in her thoughts. _"Are you sure, little one. I hate to leave you for so long on our first free day together." _

"Go," he said firmly. "I have been looking forward to walking the streets of Ellesmera for awhile now."

"_Alright, if you are sure. Stay out of harm's way. I shall return tonight." _

"Fair hunting, Saphira!" he called as she whooshed from their tree.

After he had finished eating, Eragon stretched and began to wander his way into the heart of Ellesmera. Elves continued their daily activities all around him. Some paused in their pursuits to greet Eragon, but for the most part they passed him off as any other elf going about his way. _I see Saphira is the true interest the elves have in me, _he thought the Battle of the Burning Plains, this might have bothered him, but now being celebrated had no hold over him. After all the fighting finished, he could see himself settling down in Ellesmera among the elves.

Thoughts of Angela's prophecy sprang into his mind as he let his feet carry him aimlessly throughout the city. _But I will not stay here. I will someday leave Alagaesia forever._ Eragon shook his head. He believed in Angela's proficient magic and fortune-telling skills, but he just couldn't see this to be true. Leave Alagaesia? But where would he go? This was his home. He couldn't just leave it behind, or could he?

Then his thoughts drifted to another part of the prophecy, an epic romance. So far all he had gained from pursuing romance was heart-wrenching pain. Memories of Arya swam in his mind's eye. No matter how much anguish she caused him, he still loved her like no other. He tried to think of life without ever knowing Arya and shuddered. His world would be empty without her.

With a start, he realized where his feet had carried him. He had come here only once before, but the memory of it was emblazoned in his head. Last time, he had not been welcomed in.

He stared in horror through Arya's screen door and into her familiar hallway. What was he doing here! He could not remember any conscious decision on his part to come visit Arya. Every sensible part of his brain screamed at him to turn around and pretend he had never been here. Maybe she had not even noticed his presence, but with dread he sensed that she was, in fact, inside. _Curse the gods! She is never home. Why this once? _

While his brain commanded his body to turn and leave, he watched his knuckles raise slowly to the doorsill and rap gently against it.

Several moments passed as Eragon stood frozen with his knuckles still resting on the doorframe. From inside, a hesitant voice floated to him, "Come in."

Without realizing entirely what he was doing, Eragon opened the screen door and stepped inside. His feet took him as far as the end of the hallway where it opened up into a living area, then seemingly his body shut down. It had brought him this far against his will and now was leaving it up to his brain to explain his actions.

He mentally fortified himself before finally looking up to meet Arya's gaze. His resolve crumbled the moment he saw her. Nothing he could have done would have prepared Eragon for the stunning scene before him.

Arya sat in an intricately grown wooden chair with her bare feet propped on a low table. A long scroll rested in her lap where she had been reading it. Eragon's gaze took in every detail of her surprising appearance.

Arya's customary leather outfit or traditional Elvin tunic was gone. She wore a soft, white, sleeve-less shirt. The material framed her body modestly but with subtle hints as to what lay beneath. The neckline plunged dangerously low until it met in a V where it was fastened down the front. Her pants appeared to be made of the softest material Eragon had ever seen, and he had a strange desire to touch it. The soft cloth hugged her curves delicately, tight even down her narrow thighs until it flared out past her knees.

Eragon forced his gaze upwards where he took in another shocking change. Gone was Arya's customary headband but neither did her sable hair hang loose like so many of the elves. Black as midnight, her long hair was twisted and brought back up on itself. She had it clipped there with an unusual clamp with wooden teeth. From where it was clamped, her hair spiked upwards until falling gracefully back down just above her shoulders. A few strands of black had slipped from their hold and fell gently down her face, framing her ethereal beauty.

Eragon watched as her delicate lips moved, and he struggled to unscramble her musical libretto. "What is it, Eragon?" Her lips pursed in slight irritation but her expression was almost amused, as if his reaction was humorous.

"I…ah, um…" Eragon stumbled for several impossible moments, for no words seem to form from his lips. Finally, he managed, "I beg your pardon, Arya Svit-kona. I am unsure."

He fumbled a bit more under her unflinching gaze. She sat there, still waiting. After enduring a while longer of Eragon's stuttering, Arya seemed to take pity on him and offered, "How did you come to be here?"

Unfortunately, this question did not help him in the slightest because he had no more of an idea _how_ he arrived than of _why_ he was standing here in Arya's house. He registered the fact that she seemed to be trying very hard to keep the emotions from her face, but her lips were still curled into the smallest hint of a grin.

Taking a ragged breath, Eragon jumped into a rambling explanation. "The other day, yesterday actually, I asked Oromis-ebrithil for an opportunity to rest…he suggested today…Saphira was hungry and tired of small game…she's off hunting now."

"I…uh, went for a walk…somehow…I mean, um, I was walking this way…and, um…I decided to stop by to visit." He said the last part in such a rush that he was sure Arya had no hope of understanding.

She stared at him for a long moment before saying, "I see."

Relieved that the worst was over, Eragon managed to calm himself somewhat. "I apologize again, Arya Svit-kona. I did not mean to intrude. It's just…"

His voice trailed off as he considered how to continue. "…It's been awhile since I have been around friends or family, besides, of course, Saphira."

"Ellesmera is wonderful, and I feel more at home here than I have felt anywhere since leaving Carvahall. But…I am close to few people here. I have missed Orik and Nasuada and the rest of the Varden."

"And, I have missed you…r company, as well," he ended hurriedly.

Eragon watched carefully as Arya's face softened ever so slightly. She let out a barely audible sigh as she lowered her gaze. She seemed to be deliberating with herself while Eragon stood there embarrassed at revealing so much of himself.

He knew what she would say, or at least what she was thinking, even if she let him down gently. That he was but a child that she had no time to baby-sit. That their spending time together outside of business discussions was inappropriate. That he should leave her alone for once.

But when she looked up at him again, her eyes following his body slowly up from his toes to his face, there was an unfathomable expression dancing in her eyes. Eragon did not know what it meant or even how to describe it. He only knew that he had never seen such a look in Arya's eyes before.

Quickly, as though she realized his thoughts, she broke away from his gaze to look down at the scroll in her lap.

"Very well," she spoke so quietly he almost missed it. "You may stay if you wish."

She inclined her head towards a comfortable-looking chair facing the open bay window. It rested at a 90 degree angle to Arya's chair with the low table nestled in front of them both. Eragon settled into the chair, unsure of what to expect.

He looked over at Arya who had deliberately begun reading her scroll again. So she was not giving him much, but she was allowing him to stay.

Eragon turned to look out the window at the beautiful garden beyond it, and relaxed back into the chair. He closed his eyes slightly and breathed in the wonderful scent permeating the room. _Arya's scent. _The smell of crushed pine needles stung his nose pleasantly, sharpening his senses, yet completely relaxing him at the same time. He felt whole with her there beside him, as if all in the world was as it should be.

He opened his eyes to see Arya looking directly at him. He watched as her burning green eyes took in every detail of him, missing nothing. Slowly, she brought her gaze up to meet his. Arya's eyes betrayed nothing, all emotion carefully put away. Eragon held her stare, and for once, she looked away first.

While Arya continued reading her scroll, he studied her intently from the corner of his eye. Eragon had never seen this side of Arya before. Always before, she was cold and calculating, a fearless leader, completely flawless. But now she seemed almost raw before him, all of her carefully constructed masks pushed aside for this moment.

He marveled at the Arya before him. If he had thought her unbelievably beautiful previously, now he knew she was no less than a goddess. He favored her hair pulled back the way it was, so casual, almost human even. Her insouciantly seductive clothing was breathtaking, and he found his eyes following the plunge of her neckline a little too often.

Eragon's heart was beating so loudly that he wondered if her Elvin ears could hear its sporadic spluttering. He forced himself to advert his gaze since Saphira was not there to command him to stop staring.

Most of all, as he sat there, he wondered what Arya was thinking of. If she was allowing him to see this side of her physically, so astonishingly beautiful and open, he wondered if he would get to experience that side of her mind as well. He wanted nothing more than to know her better.

With conviction, he thought, _Arya has trusted me enough to see this side of her, and I will not do anything to break that trust. I am content to wait as many years as it takes for her to open up to me._

With that last thought, he relaxed deeper into his chair, opening his mind to all the livings present as he had learned to do in his training. He reveled in Arya's presence, her scent, her soft breathing, the feel of her comforting aura. Eragon let it all surround him as he immersed himself in her.

The time passed by quickly, but Eragon knew he would remember every moment as he sat beside Arya. Nothing seemed to exist outside of that room because the rest of the world paled to the woman next to him. The humorous aspect of it was that all he was doing was sitting in a chair in Arya's house watching her read, yet every moment was of utmost importance. Eventually, he lost the sense of time altogether.

Sometime later, Eragon felt a clearly Elvin presence approaching. He glanced over at Arya who had already slipped silently to her feet and was striding to the door. Eragon tilted back in his chair so that he could have a clear view of the entrance.

On the other side stood an extremely nervous-looking elf. Arya opened the door halfway to speak with him. Eragon watched with amusement as the young elf took in Arya's appearance. Even though most of her body was obscured behind the doorframe, the young elf was still having trouble controlling his countenance. Eragon silently applauded him for remaining capable of stuttering out the Elvin greeting.

He bowed deeply to her then said, voice cracking in some places, "Arya Dröttningu, I apologize immensely for this inexcusable intrusion. But the Queen explicitly ordered me to get your orders at once."

Arya nodded tersely for him to continue.

"In a recent council meeting, the House of…" The elf continued on quickly spouting out names and ranks that Eragon did not recognize as he described the current political problem. Eragon quickly lost interest in the black-haired elf's message. What he found much more intriguing was his obvious discomfort at interrupting Arya at home. Eragon couldn't help but wonder what would cause the usually stoic elves to appear nervous.

This elf was obviously young and that explained his reaction to Arya's sensuality, but this one seemed almost on the verge of running for his life. Eragon listened to Arya's calm, authoritative voice without really understanding what she was commanding. He did notice, however, how the messenger's eyes widened when Arya finished and said he was free to go.

"Thank you for understanding," the elf said, relief coloring his voice. "You have no other orders, my lady?" he added hesitantly.

"No, as I am sure this is the final interruption I will receive," Arya said almost sweetly, but Eragon caught the implied meaning behind it. Apparently, so did the elf.

"Of course, my lady. I will deliver your orders to the Queen at once. May the stars watch over you." With that, he practically ran from Arya's door.

She turned and regarded Eragon sprawled out over the chair, his head hanging back over the top observing her from upside-down. Arya's lip twitched as if about to smile but she turned quickly and settled into her chain with dignity. She apparently decided there was no need to speak to the rider taking up space in her living room..

Eragon relaxed and opened his mind to everything around him once again. He brushed delicately against Arya's mind then continued to let his consciousness expand. The brief contact left him bewildered. Usually there were thick stone barriers barricading Arya's mind, but when he touched her just then, she had the mental equivalent of a short wooden fence surrounding her- there just to establish boundaries, but easy enough to jump over if one so desired. _Strange, _he mused to himself.

Later, Eragon was brought out of his meditations by the sound of rustling parchment. He glanced over to see that Arya had finished reading the long scroll and was putting it away. Mesmerized, he followed the sway of her hips as she moved to a small kitchen area in the corner of the adjoining room. After pulling out all the items needed for tea, she proceeded to prepare it.

Desperately trying to focus on something other than her tantalizing body, Eragon sat up in his chair as she walked into the room with two steaming mugs of tea. He noticed absently that the sun was in the process of setting. Quickly he calculated the time- he had been here much longer than he had previously thought.

Arya set a mug in front of him on the table and folded her long legs under herself as she settled back into the chair. The delicious smell of the hot tea wafted up to Eragon's nose. Taking the cup in his hands, Eragon gingerly brought the liquid to his lips, appreciative of the warmth it sent down his spine.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

She regarded him silently from over the rim of her mug before he whispered, "For everything."

Arya's eyes met his for a brief intense moment. "Your welcome." The words were so quiet that he was not sure whether he had imagined them or not.

"So you said Saphira decided to look for more suitable prey?"

Eragon grinned at her, thankful for her attempt to alleviate the tense moment. "Aye. I believe Glaedr filled her head with images of monstrous creatures to hunt. She has not yet returned, so I imagine she is enjoying herself."

Arya smiled then saying, "Depending on how deep into Du Weldenvarden she finds herself, Saphira will discover some truly intimidating beasts."

"Aye. She _was_ looking for a challenge," Eragon chuckled.

Their exchanges came easily, and Eragon found himself enjoying the dialogue immensely. They proceeded to talk freely about whatever subjects came to mind. During a comfortable lull in conversation, he breeched a topic he had been curious about earlier.

"Arya, I hope you don't mind me asking, but the young elf that came before…"

She raised a single eyebrow at him.

"Well, I was wondering at his reluctance to deliver his message." To Eragon's immense surprise, Arya let out a quick laugh. The trilling sound of it left him spellbound. His heart hammered in his chest, and he struggled to slow his breathing. _How does she effect me this way? _

"Hmm…he did appear a bit nervous, didn't he?" she said almost mischievously. "I can think of no reason…except perhaps he conversed with the last elf who interrupted my only day off with some absurd concern about housing."

Eragon's eyes widened.

"Don't look so alarmed, Eragon. I did not hurt him."

"I might have raised my voice a bit." Arya looked like she was reliving the event she had previously forgotten about. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, and a tinge of guilt touched her expression.

Eragon could not contain himself any longer and abruptly burst into heavy laughter. Gripping his sides violently, he attempted to catch his breath but each time a vision of a terrified elf quailing under Arya's wrath sent him into another laughing fit. Arya stared at him, trying very hard not to look amused.

"What in Alagaesia is so funny," she stated with dignity. After another bout of laughter, Eragon managed to stumble out, "The poor elf…I can just imagine the look on his face!"

Arya appeared slightly ashamed, but Eragon sensed that she wanted to laugh but thought it would be improper. After finally calming himself, Eragon proceeded to ask about the Varden, Orik and the dwarves, and Nasuada. They talked long on Eragon's training and Arya's travels along with any other thoughts that presented themselves.

An immeasurable amount of time passed until the stars were the only light in the moonless sky. The sounds of the creatures of the night were an ever-present background to the dark sky. Sometime just before nightfall, Eragon felt Saphira's presence, sleepy and full, return to their tree-house, and he was relieved that she had returned safely.

Most of the evening was filled his and Arya's conversations, but sometimes they would just sit quietly, listening to the cacophony of sounds filtering in from the forest. Finally, the late hour made itself apparent, and Eragon rose to leave. Arya walked with him to the door and murmured softly, "Goodnight, Eragon."

His heart screamed at him to say any of a thousand things. It begged him to do anything to prolong his time with her. Finally, torn in his uncertainty, he managed to say, voice rough and low, "Goodnight, Arya."

She turned away quickly, perhaps realizing his conflicting emotion and not wishing to tempt him further. Or, if he dared think it, perhaps she was hiding some deep emotion of her own.

His legs carried him out of Tialdari Hall numbly. His heart burned intensely with feelings and emotions that did not want to be suppressed. Finally making it to his and Saphira's tree, Eragon crashed like a deadweight into his bed. At the edge of the room, Saphira stirred but did not wake.

The night deepened and Saphira's soft snores resounded throughout the room. Eragon lay shirtless, staring at the ceiling blankly. He could not fall into his trance-like sleep nor could he sleep like he once had when fully human. The burning inside him had lessoned somewhat, but it was far from gone. He had a feeling that it would never leave him until he was with Arya again. It was a gaping hole that would not be filled by anything but her. For the rest of the night, he relived the moments from his time with Arya until the sun began its predictable rise.

…

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading, and please review! I get bubbly feelings inside everytime I read them. :) **

**Shout out to all of you who have:** oakel, Eragon n Murtagh, mj, claire 1992, andrewTHATSME, Du Moi abr Wyrda


	5. Chapter 4

**His Wyrda**

**Chapter 4**

"_Eragon? Eragon!" _

"Hmm?" he mumbled.

"_What is wrong with you? You've kept me blocked out all morning."_ Saphira snorted unhappily. _"I leave you alone for one day and you end up like this!" _

"Like what?" Eragon asked, confused and slightly irritated at being drawn from his thoughts.

They were on their way to train with Oromis, and Saphira had been trying to pull him from his revere ever since waking this morning to find him passed out on his bed. He had slept through the screeching timepiece, but finally awoke when Saphira started shouting that an Urgal was chewing on her tail. She had been pleased with herself, satisfied that she had effectively woken him up.

"_You know what I'm referring to, Eragon. I am worried about you." _The concern in her voice brought Eragon into focus.

"It's nothing Saphira. I am alright," he said gently. Momentarily satisfied, Saphira questioned him no more.

After their lesson concluded, Saphira insisted on taking a long flight before returning home. In a motherly tone, she had commanded, _"You need some fresh air to clear your mind." _

And, as usual, she was right. After taking in the endless sea of green treetops from jaw-dropping heights, Eragon felt much better. Finally he relented to her early inquiries. "Do you truly want to know what is wrong with me, Saphira?"

"I love her too much." Saphira let out a deep sigh. She had expected that this had something to do with Arya.

"_Why don't you tell me what happened, little one." _

"Nothing happened. While you were gone hunting yesterday, I went to see Arya. We talked for awhile just like any two friends would. The problem is with me, Saphira."

"I cannot control the way I feel about her. The war and our allegiances leave no room for such feelings, and I cannot act on my affections because of our duties. But even if there were time for romance, Arya would not have me anyway."

"_Do not degrade yourself so. Any woman would be honored to have you, Eragon. And as for Arya, you will have to let fate take its course." _

"_I do not know of her feelings about you. But rest assured, she does have feelings, little one. She is just very practiced at concealing them. Arya is not as perfect as you see her to be. Sometimes she makes the wrong decisions, just like you and I." _

Eragon was silent, and Saphira was content to leave him to his thoughts.

…

The days passed by without incident and also without any sight of Arya. Eragon did not visit her house again, nor did he have the opportunity to. There seemed to be a general sense of unease among the elves, and Oromis took out his restlessness in his training of Eragon and Saphira.

Eragon was tested to his very limits, but each time he resolutely pushed through. Oftentimes, after completing an especially difficult task, Oromis and Glaedr would simply stare at him in surprise. Eragon felt that the old elf was continually placing more and more faith in him to defeat Galbatorix for the good of all Alagaesia.

Eragon frequently surprised himself as well. He found that he could accomplish things with magic that would have killed him not even a month ago.

So Eragon was concerned when his dream-like trances began to be filled with haunting images of death and destruction. He had thought with his new successes that his subconscious would be more confident in the Varden's victory. But, the strange visions continued to worsen until they were painstakingly life-like. Upon waking in the morning, Eragon was sometimes confused with which was reality- here in Ellesmera or the destruction in his mind.

…

On the evening before their next day of rest, Eragon was uncharacteristically jubilant as he and Saphira flew home from training. Saphira happily carried out his elation by flipping and diving through the air.

"I am proud of you, little one. You did extremely well today."

"Thanks, I can hardly believe it myself."

For weeks, Oromis had Eragon practice his control over magic by attempting to stop the flow of a small river. Today, he had finally succeeded to the amazement of himself and Saphira. Judging by the look on Oromis's face, his master had not expected Eragon to ever completely control the water. This was just one instance of Eragon's growing powers, and Glaedr seemed concerned about the potency of Eragon's magic.

That night, he collapsed into bed, completely drained from his earlier exertion. _Perhaps I will be too tired to suffer those visions. _"Goodnight, Saphira."

"'_Night, little one." _

No sooner than he had closed his eyes, Eragon was thrown into a different place and time.

…

Smoke curled from the piles of dead soldiers and gathered in a thick fog that hung oppressively in the air. Eragon was running through the battlefield, tripping over the grotesque shapes about his feet. It appeared to be night, but that meant nothing since the smog was so dense that no person could hope for a glimpse of the sun.

Eragon felt a desperate need to be somewhere at the moment, but he could not recall where that was. He only knew that a life was at stake, the life of someone close to him, maybe even his own. Stumbling again in his haste, Eragon fell forward into a bloodstained puddle. He wiped the filth from him as quickly as he could and turned back to see what he had tripped on. Mind-numbing horror overcame him as he scrambled backwards on his elbows. There before him, his body crumbled with joints sticking out at all the wrong angles, was Brom.

Still struggling to get away, Eragon noticed the faces of the contorted bodies surrounding him. His chest constricted violently as he recognized each face. Ajihad…Garrow…Hrothgar…Every person he had ever loved and lost lay mutilated around him.

Angry tears sprang to his eyes at the sight of so much carnage. _Whoever is responsible must pay! _Eragon's mind was hurled back to the present at the sound of an anguish-filled scream. Feet flying over the slaughtered remains of his loved ones, Eragon raced to the sound of that voice. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he recognized the person behind the tortured screams.

_Not her! _he thought. _By the gods, not her! _Pain stitched in his side as he ran onwards. His breath came in shallow gasps and he felt light-headed. Eragon knew he had to slow down soon for air or he would collapse.

He gave one last dash forward as a dreaded sight came into view. Murtagh stood ominously on a small hill staring directly at Eragon, waiting. Blood soaked his clothes and his face wore a maniacal expression. Eragon stopped before him, legs burning like fire and not capable of taking him any further.

A strangled gasp escaped from Eragon's lips as he confirmed the identity of the figure held tightly in Murtagh's arms. A cruel sneer twisted across Murtagh's face as he relished in Eragon's pain.

"My life was taken from me, brother," he spat out. "Now I'm going to take what's left of yours."

Eragon rushed forwards in a desperate attempt to stop him, but he was not fast enough. Quick as lightning, Murtagh thrust Zar' rok deep into Arya's core. She cried out before crumpling into a bloody heap at Murtagh's feet. Tears flooding out, Eragon knelt on the blood-soaked ground and took her in his arms while Murtagh stood looking down at them.

Grabbing her face with both hands, Eragon screamed at her repeatedly, "Stay with me! _Stay with me!" _Eragon watched in horror as her vibrant emerald eyes slowly faded until they were nothing but lifeless orbs staring blankly out at nothing. At that moment, when looking into his lover's dead gaze, something deep inside Eragon snapped. Clinging Arya's limp form tightly, he screamed at the top of his lungs into the blood-stained sky.

…

Eragon sat forcefully up in his bed, sweat clinging to every surface of his skin. It took all of his might to keep from yelling out into the dark room. Breathing in hard gasps, Eragon leapt from the bed without knowing what he was doing.

This wasn't real. Images of Arya's dead body flashed through his mind. They were all dead- Garrow, Brom…Arya. _Murtagh had killed them all! _No wait, Arya could not be gone. Confusing scenes raced across Eragon's consciousness, and realities blurred until he no longer knew what was real and what was not. He felt himself slowly losing his sanity.

Without another moment of hesitation, Eragon was sprinting down the long flight of stairs. His bare feet squished in the damp earth as he propelled himself down the familiar pathways. It was pitch black, but Eragon did not need light to see his way. He could navigate this trail blindfolded. He didn't think about what he was doing. The only thing he could see was the lifeless vision of Arya's eyes flashing in his mind. He knew she was gone. He had held her while she died, but he had to make sure.

Running silently through the majestic flower garden, Eragon paid no mind to the exquisite flowers there. He ran breathlessly up to Arya's dwelling and flung open the screen door. His entire body trembling, he ran further into the house.

There, standing in the doorway leading into her bedchamber, was Arya. Disbelief and shock crossed her face, then alarm. Eragon's heart stopped. Relief like he had never known before rushed through his being. He closed the gap between them with a few quick steps and stared into her multifaceted green eyes.

Arya stood there frozen as he wrapped his long arms around her small frame, pulling her tightly against his chest. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled the scent of her deeply. Pulling back from her slightly but still with his arms grasping her closely, he studied her eyes again. Hundreds of emotions were traveling though them while her face remained composed in dignified shock.

Slowly, she brought her arms up to place on his shaking arms, pushing him away marginally. "Eragon." That one word contained all of the questions and confusion she harbored.

His voice rough and low, Eragon said stonily, "I watched you die." Arya cringed at the dead tone of his voice. Her hands tightened on the defined muscles of his arms. "It was not real, Eragon."

He murmured hoarsely, "I couldn't save you." Three hot tears splashed down his face, and Arya looked at him pleadingly.

Eragon cupped one of his hands delicately around her face, then pulled her into an embrace once again. Arya's arms hesitantly circled his waist while barely allowing them to touch his burning skin. Her face was pushed forcefully against his strong chest, and she could feel his heart hammering beneath his skin.

Finally his heartbeat began to slow, and Arya gasped at the feeling of his hot skin sliding against hers as he released her slowly. There were no words that could be said between them as he went abruptly to the door. As he opened it, he looked back to Arya standing beside him.

She reached out her hand and softly grasped his wrist. Squeezing it reassuringly, she then let her arm fall back to her side. Without a sound, Eragon jogged away until he found himself back in his tree home. He listened to Saphira's soft breathing until falling into a deep, completely blank sleep.

…

**Author's Note: Please tell me what you** **think! Thank you for** **taking the time to read, and I'll love you forever if you take another second or two to review.**

**Also, it will probably be little longer between updates from now on (as in 3 or 4 days max.) Sorry, but school has started, and I need to type everything and go over it all. Plus, I still have to write the ending of the story (chapters 8 and 9.) **

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**A big thank you to all my lovely reviewers! Everytime I read one, I get all bubbly inside. Cheers to you:** mj, oakel, Julian Blake, Druska41, claire1992, YASHA3393, Du Moi abr Wyrda, xlilypadsx, randomguy1517

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XxXmaximuM-RideRXxX, Yasha3393, dragonlord9292,


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello again! Just a tiny warning, this chapter is a little bit bloody, but oh well... Sorry, you won't find much fluff. (This would be the beginning of the pain I mentioned in Eragon and Arya's relationship.)**

**His Wryda**

**Chapter 5**

Eragon awoke the next morning troubled. The reality of everything that had occurred last night crashed into his consciousness. Before he had time to panic at what he had done, a sharp knock sounded at the door. He could not think of any reason for anyone to contact him this early, especially since this was his day off from training. _Unless, something is wrong!_

With that thought Eragon hurried to the door to find a grim-looking elf standing there. The fair-haired elf brought his fingers to his lips hurriedly and without bothering to speak the greeting said, "Shadeslayer, Queen Islanzadi requires your and Saphira's presence at once."

"What has happened?" demanded Eragon.

Ignoring his inquiry, the elf continued, "Her orders are to bring your weapons and be prepared for travel."

Eragon nodded tersely. Obviously he was not going to get any information from the elf. "I will be there promptly."

The elf turned abruptly and left.

"_Personable, isn't he?" _Saphira then took in Eragon's haggard features and said softly, _"What has happened, little one?"_ As he was dressing and packing hurriedly, Eragon sent her a multitude of images, some from his nightmare vision and the rest from his encounter with Arya. He felt her sympathy from across their link.

"Ready?" he asked stoically. He had no time to let his emotions rule him. Then, the two of them flew silently to meet Islanzadi.

He walked stiffly into the room. Just before turning the corner into the main hall, Eragon's sensitive ears picked up the tail end of a report. "…looked terrible, my lady." He recognized the voice of the elf who had summoned him earlier.

Rounding the corner quickly, he surveyed the occupants of the room. Islanzadi stood at the head of a long table with the reporting elf to her left. The Queen drew in a sharp intake of breath as she took in Eragon. Whether because she knew he must have heard the elf's comment or because she was realizing the truth behind it, Eragon did not know.

Several other Elvin lords and ladies occupied the chairs around the table, and Eragon took in their hard expressions. His eyes flitted to the Queen's right side where Arya stood proudly, dressed for battle. Only she did not seem surprised by his haggard appearance.

Eragon was careful not to look at her directly and instead focused his gaze on Islanzadi. "Eragon, I fear I have bad tidings."

"Recently, we have been establishing safe holds systematically placed between Du Weldenvarden's borders and Surda in hopes of making transports between ourselves and the Varden possible once again. One such safe hold is in an old city between Marna and the lake Isentar."

Islanzadi's voice took on a pained edge as she continued. "I sent five of our most noble warriors to serve as liaisons while establishing these way-points. A half hour ago, we were notified of an attack on their station. Apparently, the Red Rider and his dragon are heading the assault."

She paused in her speech with an uncharacteristic loss of words. "We…I would not ask you of this if I did not feel it of utmost importance. The only hope of reaching the site in time is by dragon back. Also, even if we could muster our forces in time, our warriors would stand little chance against an unopposed dragon and his rider."

Islanzadi drew in a breath. "I cannot risk having another elf captured. The secrets and locations of our cities are pivotal in our advantage over Galbatorix. With them disclosed, the elves would surely fall."

The silence was audible as everyone present considered the implications of her statements.

"Very well, my lady. What would you have me do?" Islanzadi looked up sharply at the hollow tone of Eragon's voice.

"Well, I do not wish an all out frontal attack on the Red Rider. My only hopes are that you and Saphira can stave the two of them off long enough for Arya to secure the fate of the ambushed elves." Her voice broke almost unnoticeably at the mention of her only daughter's involvement.

"It will be done." Arya looked at him in surprise. Saphira observed him as well, concern evident in her eyes. Privately, she said to him, _"Are you sure you are alright with Ary…" _

Eragon cut her off abruptly. _"Enough, Saphira! This is hard enough for me already." _His voice softened. _"We will save the elves if we can. It is our duty." _

Activity whirled around them both as Eragon strapped his legs to Saphira's saddle and made sure all of his weapons were fastened securely in place.

He glanced down at all the elves below them, and his eyes locked on the approaching figure. _"I cannot handle this, Saphira. Not after last night!"_ he shot over to Saphira's mind.

"_You must, Eragon. Remember, as you said, it is our duty." _

Eragon kept a tight control on his expression and pushed all emotion from his eyes. Arya looked up at him briefly, then sprung gracefully up Saphira's leg and seated herself behind Eragon. Her scent washed over him, and his memory of holding her last night burned in his mind. Then, just as suddenly, the image of her lifeless eyes filled his vision.

His body began to tremble violently, and he could do nothing to stop it. _"Eragon, time is of the essence!" _Saphira said in his head.

Still shaking slightly, Eragon turned to Islanzadi, "We will return safely soon." He was surprised that his voice came out strong, even if empty.

"May the stars watch over you." Islanzadi spoke to both of them, but her gaze held only Arya. "Farewell, Mother." Arya replied quietly.

Eragon glanced back questioningly in Arya's general direction without really focusing on her. From the corner of his eye, he saw her nod, and Saphira thrust mightily from the ground.

The wind ripped around them as she sped towards the city. Eragon was acutely aware of Arya's close proximity to him. She kept her hands behind her, gripping the back of the saddle, but there was nothing she could do about the insides of her thighs pressing against his hips.

Eragon tried desperately to control himself because he knew she could feel him shaking in front of her. He thought of the upcoming battle to distract himself. _Murtagh. _Anger swelled up inside him as he thought of his brother's betrayal. Eragon knew Murtagh had been forced to join Galbatorix, but he could have sacrificed his own life for the sake of all Alagaesia. Or he could have fought Galbatorix's plans and allowed Eragon to capture him until they could break Galbatorix's control.

The memory of Hrothgar's cruel death played vividly in Eragon's consciousness. _I refuse to believe he had no choice. Everyone always has a choice! _

The flight was over sooner than Eragon thought possible. He stared in surprise at the ruin below them. The old citadel the Varden and the elves had been using was crumbling dangerously, and there were smoldering fires where Thorn had scorched everything in sight.

Saphira landed in the center of a cobble-stone plaza where it was obvious a fight had commenced, though it appeared quite a bit one-sided. Eragon observed the familiar groove marks a dragon left behind when taking flight. He searched the sky for any glimpse of red but could see nothing.

Arya slipped off Saphira's back with Eragon following close behind. Quietly she whispered to him, "I sense two of my race, but no one else." She motioned towards the stone tower before them, and they crept into the dark tunnel cautiously. The stench of death rose oppressively around them as they made their way deeper.

The hallway opened into a large, dimly-lit round room. Arya froze when she reached the dank entrance. Eragon peered over her shoulder to see what had brought her to a halt. Bodies of the townspeople who had joined the Varden lay strewn across the floor. Slumped against a wall on the opposite side of the room were three distinctly Elvin figures. Their decimated bodies were charred almost beyond recognition where they had been thrown carelessly against the wall.

Then, as Arya stiffened again, Eragon followed her gaze to a darkened area on the opposite side of the room. Three, tall hooded figures stood like stone statues. Eragon stared at the dark forms intently and noticed the two further back were clutching long daggers to the exposed throats of the two remaining elves. Their heads rolled back unnaturally, and Eragon sensed they were barely alive and beyond the ability to save.

Lightning quick, Arya unsheathed her long sword and hissed, "A trap!" A deep rumbling sounded overhead, and the next sequence of events flew by instantaneously. Arya dashed towards the hooded figures while an enormous red mass crashed down from above. Acting purely by reflexes, Eragon jumped forward and brought his borrowed Elvin blade up barely in time to deflect Thorn's mighty tail from smashing into Arya's back.

The three cloaked men threw back their hoods to reveal scarred faces twisted into cruel sneers as they threw the elves to the ground after slitting their throats. Runes of the ancient language were crudely carved into every inch of their sickly pale skin, and their eyes were a murky solid black. _The Empire's sorcerers! _

Arya brought down her sword on the closest figure with a fury Eragon had never seen in her before. He dodged Thorn's swipes barely and fended off the blows he couldn't escape with magic. Fiery red scales enveloped all of his vision. From above the destroyed ceiling, Saphira's bugle pierced the air.

His dragon scrambled hastily back from the opening in the ceiling as Thorn sent a molten blast of flames at her. His razor-sharp teeth snapped inches from Eragon's skull before whipping his tail around to slap into the side of Arya's face.

Eragon heard the crack of impact even above the sound of rushing air as Thorn shot out to meet Saphira. Drops of blood splattered in an arch across the stone wall an instant before Arya's body followed, crashing hard against the stone.

Completely furious, Eragon let out an angry cry as he charged the remaining sorcerer. Arya had already finished off the first two easily. Eragon felt the pressure against his mind as the lone mage desperately tried to fend him off. Irritated, Eragon pushed the sorcerer back into his own mind and crushed his barriers. While his mind was defenseless, Eragon muttered one of the twelve words of death, and his foe instantly slumped over dead.

Pulling Arya to her feet, he flinched as he saw the damage Thorn's tail had done. Red and yellow mixed together where skin had been ripped off, exposing bone. She winced as he brought his palm to her face and yelled, _"Weis heill! Weise heill!" _repeatedly until the worst was repaired.

Arya stumbled on her feet but reached down for her sword determinedly. Her eyes bore into his for a brief instant before turning for one last look at her slain companions. "Brisingr!" she shouted, and green flames licked around the noble bodies that could not receive a proper burial.

They both ran back out to the stone plaza just as Thorn crashed into Saphira again. Both of their bodies were covered in raw gashes and deep bite marks. Eragon choked as he felt Thorn twist Saphira's wing in his jaws.

"_Saphira! Get out of there. There is something wrong about this. Where is Murtagh?" _

Eragon's eyes roved the courtyard for his brother but saw no one. Suddenly, he felt the familiar presence and whirled to face him. Arya sensed it at the same moment and turned with Eragon to stare at the top of the tower.

Murtagh's distant form was rigid as he swiftly notched an arrow in his deep black bow. Time stood on end. Eragon watched in horror as Murtagh aimed and shot in the same instant. He saw Murtagh's face change to shock as he reached out a hand as if to bring the arrow back.

Eragon saw the black shaft whiz through the air at unnatural speed. A black fog trailed the arrow making it even more clear who had fired it. Eragon cried out hoarsely and tried to say the right words to deflect it, but it was already too late. Less than half a second had passed since Murtagh released the taunt bow string, but the arrow had met its mark. And it was not meant for Eragon.

Arya had no time to react as the black point plunged straight into her heart.

A feral snarl ripped from Eragon's lips. A rage more powerful than he had ever felt before rose from deep inside him, and his vision tinged red. From above him, Saphira let out a roar to match his own before knocking Thorn momentarily out of the air.

A battalion of the Empire's soldiers rushed straight for Eragon from behind the walls where their presence had been concealed with magic. Eragon could not move, and his eyes took in nothing but Arya's slumped form on the ground before him. It was his vision all over again.

Arya's eyes were wide as she weakly grasped at the shaft jutting from her chest. Her gaze rose slowly to meet Eragon's, then frantically looked around at the soldiers rushing towards them.

The first line of the Empire charged as one while the archers let loose a hail of arrows. Eragon never took his eyes from Arya as the arrows hit a barrier of magic around the two of them and fell pitifully to the ground. Eragon finally looked up at the oncoming warriors. His cold stare took in their frightened eyes unfeelingly as they rushed for him. Moments before they reached him, Eragon whispered words of death, and thirty soldiers dropped dead instantly. He did not even feel the pull of magic from his core because of the burning rage consuming his body and spirit.

Arya let out a choked gasp, and Eragon snapped into action. He whirled to find Saphira's form in the air and breeched her mental barriers. _"Leave Thorn. I need you, Saphira." _

At the lifeless tone of his voice, she dived straight out of the air and frantically raced towards him. Eragon knelt down to Arya and put pressure on her wound to slow the bleeding. Another regiment of soldiers was pouring over the corridor walls rapidly, and Eragon wondered where so many of them could have hidden.

He fielded off the torrent of arrows until he felt Arya's life beginning to slip. He pushed his energy into her to give her strength to continue. Desperately, he shouted every healing spell he knew, but nothing would touch the wound. He tried to remove the arrow but never had enough time. Every few seconds, he had to give Arya his strength, and he was running out fast.

"_Saphira! Where are you?" _

Her desperation reached him as she fought Thorn off in the sky. _"I can't get away from him!" _

Arya gagged on the blood choking in her throat, and Eragon lost his careful control. _"Saphira, fly straight for us." _

"_But Thorn!" _she cried.

"_I will deal with him. Trust me," _he answered, voice deadly.

Panic edged her voice as she replied, _"With my life." _She thrust her wings forward and twisted through the air towards Eragon, leaving her entire left side unprotected.

Thorn let out a garbled cry of victory as he shot in to deliver the finishing blow. Eragon stood protectively over Arya's body as he raised his palm to face Thorn's approaching form. His gedwëy ignasia shone brilliantly as Eragon poured all of his wrath into one word.

"_Jierda!" _

The massive bones in Thorn's muscular body snapped simultaneously, and he roared a cry of anguish as he fell from the sky. He desperately tried to spread his wings to break his fall, but all he managed to do was flail his crumpled limbs as gravity pulled him rapidly to the earth. His powerful neck slammed into a stone turret, crumbling the ancient stone with the force of his blow, and his body continued to tumble to the ground. He crashed into the earth so heavily that Eragon felt the tremble from where he stood.

Murtagh fell to his knees from where he had remained frozen since releasing the single, deadly arrow. All of Eragon's muscles shook violently from the magic that had almost killed him, but he gathered Arya's limp body in his arms as he leapt onto Saphira's back.

The Empire's soldiers hailed them relentlessly with arrows, and Eragon had not the strength to deflect them. He shielded Arya's body with his own, and the arrows buried themselves in his flesh.

Saphira thrust off from the ground, and Eragon fixed his cold glare on Murtagh's pained face. "You're dead, Murtagh!"

"You hear? Next time I see you, I will kill you."

Saphira escaped through the air at a dangerous pace, but still Eragon screamed, "Faster, Saphira!"

He held the bloody form of Arya's body, keeping her alive only by giving her his. He knew he must remove the arrow from her heart if he had any hope of saving her. Gritting his teeth, he plunged his fingers around the gaping hole in her chest. He had to constantly feed her strength as he pulled the arrow from her skin with one hand while bracing himself against her chest with the other.

Finally, he worked it free and stared in horror at the thick black substance coating the entire tip of the arrowhead. The sticky substance had an evil presence to it, and he knew powerful dark magic surrounded it. _It refuses to be healed! _Arya thrashed against him violently, then fell limp.

Eragon sensed her heart stop its faint beating, and once again rage overcame him. Pushing both hands against the bloody hole of her chest, he shouted, _"Lífa!" _Reaching deep for the remaining vestiges of his strength, he pushed his energy into her.

With a violent gasp, Arya coughed once before falling unconscious again. Eragon gently tilted her head to the side so the blood she was choking on would not suffocate her. Still keeping pressure on her gushing wound, he looked about him for the first time. He was struck by a wave of nausea as they shot threw the air.

Saphira looked back at him briefly before concentrating on flying once again. Eragon felt her heaving breaths and took in the dark blood oozing from the reminders of her battle with Thorn. Amazed at her strength, he sent her a feeling of appreciation. She smiled weakly back at him while trying not to crash into the treetops they were barely hurtling above.

Eragon turned his attention back to Arya. His mind was numbed to the gruesome sight before him. All he felt was his endless love for her and a boiling rage at her suffering and at himself for letting it happen. His hands on her chest were a dark red, and his clothing was soaked all the way through with her blood. Arya's very life streamed down Saphira's heaving sides in rivulets of crimson.

Sweat poured from Eragon's muscles as he struggled to keep her alive long enough to reach the elves. With dogged determination, he avoided thinking about the numerous arrows embedded in his shoulders, back, and sides. His own life meant nothing if he could not save Arya.

Saphira was laboring intensely as they crossed the border into Ellesmera. Eragon quickly located the Queen's mind and angrily shoved away her defenses. _"Gather every healer you have." _

He felt her alarmed fear, then her acknowledgement.

"_Hang on, Saphira. We've almost made it." _

Moments later, she crashed heavily into the ground rather than landing. Eragon stumbled from her back with Arya in his arms and looked wildly around at the stunned elves. No one moved. Eragon's eyes darkened, and he turned his fierce glare at them all. "Help her." It came out barely more than a whisper. _"Help her!" _he bellowed.

…

**Author's Note: I am the most nervous about this chapter because, well, this is the first one where anything major in the plot happens, and it does have a little cliffy. I have read over it again and again, so I hope you approve! :) Eragon is changing a little because of everything that he's going through, but I will do my best to keep everyone in character. The next chapter is pretty major...**

**Once again, please review. I almost died when I saw that I reached _30_ reviews!! **

**Cheers to ya'll:** xlilypadx, randomguy1517, mj (This one made my day!), YASHA3393, oakel, andrewTHATSME, claire1992, xXOcean-BabeXx, and Squealing Lit. Fan (I can't believe you reviewed my story! I love There You'll Be!)

**And to my buddies on the alert/fav. lists:** AddieShepherd, Aeronnen, Alyra90, Eragon n Murtagh, Faerie of Murtagh, YASHA3393, AndrewTHATSME, claire 1992, randomguy1517, xlilypadsx, Andlat Ebrithil, Axilestyn, Connor, Grimindome, Julian Blake, Lanslyna,  
Squealing Lit. Fan, XxXmaximuM-RideRXxX, dragonlord9292, xXOcean-BabeXx, and Du Moi abr Wyrda


	7. Chapter 6

**Warning: This chapter is one of the reasons for the M rating. **

**His Wyrda**

**Chapter 6**

_Eragon stumbled from her back with Arya in his arms and looked wildly around at the stunned elves. No one moved. Eragon's eyes darkened, and he turned his fierce glare at them all. "Help her." It came out barely more than a whisper. "Help her!" he bellowed. _

A flurry of movement erupted on the scene as Queen Islanzadi rushed into view. A heart-wrenching cry escaped from her, and for a moment it looked like she would break down at the sight of her dying daughter. But, she quickly transformed into the powerful leader she was known to be.

She delegated orders swiftly and hurried Eragon into a darkened room with a long table at one end. He gently set Arya down on it as a group of elves expertly began to tend to her. Eragon stood stiffly to the side and refused to leave for medical attention saying, "Her first."

Islanzadi's eyes were tight as the elves cleaned Arya's deep wound. As they finally removed the clothing and dried blood to get a clear view, the elves' stoic expressions changed to that of horror. "Impossible!" gasped the lead healer. "With a wound this severe, she should have died only moments after its infliction."

Eragon wavered unsteadily on his feet. Outside, everyone heard as Saphira collapsed. Cries of surprise erupted from the elves while Islanzadi continued shouting orders. She sent a group of elves to tend to Saphira and forced Eragon to let two healers tend to him while he stood there.

Seven healing masters knelt around Arya, most of their faces strained in their attempts to sustain Arya's fleeting life. Only a few moments had passed since their arrival, but to Eragon it seemed like an eternity. His hazy mind suddenly grasped something of great importance.

He held out the black-covered arrowhead to the healers and Islanzadi. "It will not heal. I have tried every method I've been taught," his voice shook dangerously, and Eragon took a ragged breath to steady his rage.

"Get Oromis." Islanzadi's voice was sharp and rang with authority. A narrow-faced elf sprinted off at once, and Islanzadi returned to staring down at Arya's form. Blood still drenched everything around her, and her face remained deathly pale. Even so, her appearance was better than when first arriving. The healers had cleaned the worst of the wound in her chest and had healed all of the other injuries she had sustained in battle.

Moments later, Oromis hobbled into the crowded room. His expression changed from concerned to outright horrified. He took in Eragon's gore-splattered figure and the haunted lilt of his face. Oromis took a step towards him, but Eragon merely pointed at the table surrounded by the elves. His master's face suddenly lost all emotion as he stared at Arya's heart.

"The arrow?" he asked, holding out his hand. Eragon dropped it into his weathered palm.

Oromis looked slowly from Islanzadi to Eragon then to Arya. "She cannot be saved," he said softly. "We should allow her to pass to prevent any more suffering."

Eragon sucked in a ragged breath, and his fists clentched tightly. The same all-consuming rage boiled inside Eragon, but this time it was directed at someone entirely different. He was relieved to see Islanzadi's equally horrified expression. "Explain yourself, Shur'tagal," she demanded.

Oromis took a deep, reluctant breath. "It is best if you do not know the details, but it is a poison called Black-heart Resin. It takes a powerful dark spell-weaver to refine the properties of the Black-heart tree, but the result is one of the cruelest methods of death known to all the world's inhabitants."

"Those who tried to cure the infection in time's past were not successful and died in the effort. The tree was thought to be obliterated after the fall of the Grey Folk, but I suppose we were wrong in our assumption. I will not tell you what the poison does."

Islanzadi stood frozen until glancing over at Eragon's trembling figure. Her eyes widened and she signaled for everyone to clear the room except for Oromis, Eragon, and the seven healers keeping Arya alive.

Eragon's voice was low and void of all emotion as he said, "Tell me what the poison does and why the cure was unsuccessful."

Oromis replied determinately, "I will not. It will only cause you more pain."

Eragon clamped his eyes shut, and both Islanzadi and Oromis looked up in alarm as they sensed his influx of power. This was not the youthful boy they knew. Seeing his love die repeatedly had aged the young dragon rider far beyond his years.

Eragon's eyes shot open and fixed a murderous glare on Oromis. "Tell me now, _old man_! Or I will rip the information from your mind! You know that I am capable of it!"

Everyone in the room stared unbelievingly at Eragon, but none dared make a move to challenge him. Oromis carefully placed a mask of calm on his face, but fear betrayed him in his eyes.

In a low, monotonous tone he elaborated, "Black-heart resin does not truly affect the body, for it is a poison of the mind. If injected straight into the heart, the body's blood system effectively carries the disease to the brain. It cannot be healed by magic straightforwardly because no one knows precisely what is wrong inside the infected person."

"You see, the poison draws out every memory of pain and suffering the individual has ever experienced and forces them to relive it until ultimately their mind breaks and death follows soon after."

"If, and that is only if, a healer could ever breech the defenses of the infected's mind and locate the seed of the poison, it could possibly be removed and the wound could be healed as normal. But every attempt to do this in the past has failed."

"For one, it is nearly impossible to enter the infected's mind while they are in a such a state of torture, especially if the victim is an elf. Also, even if entrance is obtained, the torrent of suffering destroys all but the strongest of minds. Many powerful warriors have lost themselves in the sufferings of their poisoned companions."

"I did not tell you of the poison's effects before, Eragon, because I know you will want to save Arya. I must forbid you from attempting this. The loss of Arya is great, but we cannot afford to lose our last rider."

"How can you ask this of me!" Eragon shouted, on the verge of losing control again. "Do you not understand? I am nothing without her! You speak of Arya as if she is already dead, but here she is, heart audibly beating. Are you asking me to let her _die_ without ever trying to save her?"

"You will perish also," muttered Oromis in defeat. "The hope of Alagaesia is lost."

Determination contorted Eragon's face. "I will not fail. Tell me what I must do."

Islanzadi was motionless throughout their exchange but when Eragon strode over to Arya, she grabbed his arm. He whirled around to face her, prepared to fight, but she simply said, "You would forfeit your life for the chance to save hers?"

He looked deep into the Queen's endless eyes and spoke, "Aye." Her nod was barely visible.

Then, Eragon closed his eyes and clamped his hands on either side of Arya's face. He merged his mind with hers and was met by wall after wall of endless barriers. Lowering his face closer to hers, he whispered in her mind, _"Arya…it is I, Eragon." _

"_Allow me inside this once. You must trust me to save you." _

For the longest time, nothing changed while everyone in the room stood still as death. Then, Eragon felt the first barrier recede slowly and the next then the next. He fell deeper into Arya's consciousness than he had ever been inside anyone's save his own. Finally, he sensed the last door unlocking. He pushed through it and was plunged into unimaginable darkness.

No longer was he aware of the room he was standing in or even that he resided in Alagaesia. This encounter with Arya's mind was entirely different from his first and far more terrifying. Eragon could not hear the siren song of Arya's Elvin blood, nor could he feel her presence.

It was utterly silent for several strong moments, and then he was slammed with a torrent of images, sounds, and sensations. They all whirled chaotically through his mind. He saw Arya as a child fall from a small cliff after standing too close to the edge, and he felt her impact with the rocky ground as if he had fallen as well.

As soon as that memory had commenced, another began, strangely overlapping one another until the details of each circumstance were completely lost to him. All he experienced was each negative feeling Arya had ever endured in her long one hundred and one years. He forgot who he was and what he was supposed to be doing as each vision continued to worsen.

Endless time passed as he fell deeper into Arya's torment. Only the significant memories stood out, the ones with the most meaning and the most pain. The pungent scent of Urgals and burning flesh strangled his nostrils, and he saw a dark glade of Du Weldenvarden burning. Eragon heard the whiz of arrows in the air, and his senses overwhelmed him. The scene whirled as he took in the dying faces of two handsome elves, and he felt the tortured anguish rise in him as if it were his own. Arya's soft whisper resonated inside him, _"Faolin." _

Then he was jerked into a dark, disgusting cell. The cold, damp floor pressed into his back, and he looked up at Durza's swirling maroon eyes boring down on him.

Every terrible memory that followed stood out in vivid detail compared to the fleeting scenes he had previously experienced. Every scent, smell, touch, and sound dominated his senses. And the things he saw scarred him for the rest of his long life.

_Durza's hot breath washed over her face, and the clammy skin of his hands made her skin crawl with disgust. He pinned her arms cruelly above her head, then drove a white-hot stake through her wrists to restrain them there. The burning metal seared her skin, and her eyes rolled back in excruciating pain. _

_His sharp fingernails drew lines of blood down her flat stomach as he whispered, "Tell me where the egg is." _

The scene flashed to the next with no regard for time or sequence.

_The Shade was towering above her while holding a crude pair of pliers, smiling happily. He took her hand in his damp one and swung them gently as if strolling through a meadow. Suddenly, he pulled her hand toward himself and clamped the pliers on her fingernail, twisting it off. Arya's scream echoed off of the oppressive walls of the cell. _

Day after day of torture whirled in Eragon's mind, and he tried to scream out but could not as he was plunged into yet another memory.

_Her face was crammed against the filthy, cold floor, and the heel of Durza's boot crunched against her skull as he continually placed more of his weight on her. Arya gritted her teeth as he brought the whip down hard on her bare back. His slimy voice called out, "Traditional, yet rather overused, wouldn't you agree? But I believe it is still quite effective for my enjoyment…" _

Months passed as Eragon watched on, and Durza grew tired of questioning the elf about the egg and eventually stopped altogether. But that just allowed more time for the Shade to amuse himself.

_He grabbed a fistful of her long, black hair and yanked back her head to expose her throat. "Hello, love. Missed me?" His long tongue snaked up her skin, and Arya shuttered violently. "Come now, love. I thought you were beginning to enjoy our little experiments." _

Eragon let out a horrified scream that echoed only in his insane mind. He remembered exactly who he was and exactly who it was that he loved, but he could do nothing about what he was forced to witness. _No! No…not this…not to her. _Everything that had occurred before was nothing compared to what was forced on his consciousness as he fell into the deepest horrors of Arya's mind.

_The darkness was oppressive in the dark cell beneath the earth. He strode into the room confidently, and with a flash of his maroon eyes, ordered the guards to leave. Smiling wickedly down at Arya, he straddled her thin waist. She clamped her eyes shut and struggled futilely against him as he ripped her clothes off again. She could nudge the minds of the human guards, but she could do nothing to stop the whims of the Shade. _

_His blood-stained hands squeezed her bruised body cruelly and flung her legs apart. Then, his hot tongue forced open her lips as he thrust into her harshly. She screamed out against him, but his pointed teeth raked across her tongue. He scourged every inch of her with his dry tongue while cruelly forcing himself inside of her. _

Eragon felt it all. Every single cell of his body resounded with each one of Durza's thrusts. Bile rose in his throat as he was forced to witness the repeated violation of his love. _Over and over again._ Durza came every night to Arya's cell to enjoy himself while ravaging her body and destroying her pride.

Eragon's mind was breaking. All reasonable, coherent thought was completely gone. But still it continued.

_After ravaging her body again, Durza continued to hold her to the ground. With a dangerous glint in his eye, he held up a crude, rusty dagger. "I think we will try something new tonight." Arya's eyes widened in horror as he forced her knees apart again. "You do not seem to appreciate my… efforts with you. So…I have decided you might prefer metal inside you to skin." _

_Her screams echoed in the dark room for hours as the Shade had his fun with beautiful elf. _

Eragon lost it completely. The memories repeated themselves endlessly in his head, and with each of Durza's painful sheaths into her, his rage built until his blood vessels threatened to explode. The haunting scenes threatened to overcome Eragon as he pushed past them and into Arya's subconscious.

Eragon sensed the evil presence of the poison, and with terrible vengeance, he isolated its power and blocked it off as Oromis had instructed him to. Furiously, he spoke the words in the Ancient Language to destroy it completely. The little energy he had remaining fled him, and he was torn back into Arya's conscious mind. He sensed her suffering, but the terrifying memories no longer plagued her.

He stumbled back out of her mind harshly, and reality slapped him hard. His face still inches from Arya's, he took in the beauty that had mesmerized him in times past. Now, as he looked at her, he saw what lay below the skin, a woman that would endure months of torture and hour after hour of the cruelest violations possible and still not give anything up. He looked at her with something beyond love, something he never knew possible.

His pain and anger and love all crashed violently together into one unspeakable emotion that he had to release. Forcefully, his lips crashed against hers, and he let his dangerous emotions rule him. He deepened the kiss, pouring out all of his anger and pain against her. Unexpectedly, Arya's hand grabbed at his neck and pulled him closer as her lips met his desperately. His mouth continued to crush powerfully against hers.

An instant later, Eragon jerked away from her and stumbled backwards. He crashed into a chair and landed against the wall hard where he remained, breathing heavily.

Arya gasped and bolted upright as she regained full consciousness, and her eyes shot open.

Everyone in the room stood transfixed to the floor, unable to move. Eragon labored from his place beside the wall. His blood dripped into pools on the floor, and he appeared about to collapse. Arya stared only at him. Voice pained and hoarse, she whispered, "What did you see?"

Eragon cringed at the sound of her voice as he relived her tortured screams. He tried to meet her gaze but could not.

"What did you see?" she breathed almost to herself.

Oromis broke the stillness first and moved straight for Arya. Coherent, reasonable thought had yet to find Eragon, and faster than possible, he was crouched in front of Oromis, blocking his path to Arya. A snarl ripped from his throat, and outside, Saphira echoed his threat.

"Don't you touch her." Eragon's voice was deadly and dripping with malice.

Oromis backed away swiftly, realizing that his pupil was not entirely sane at the moment. "I am not going to harm her, Eragon. Calm yourself."

Eragon wavered slightly on his feet, and he struggled to correct himself before falling. "I am sorry," he breathed. "I do not feel well."

Another swirl of Arya's memories of Durza flooded his mind. He staggered back against the table Arya rested on. He gathered his courage to look at her and rose his gaze to meet her troubled eyes. His voice barely above a whisper, he said, "You asked what I saw?"

She nodded, unable to form words under his blank stare. "Everything, Arya. I saw everything."

The loss of blood and energy caught up with him, and he collapsed to the floor. Arya stared vacantly out at nothing, but a single tear slid down the side of her flawless cheek, turned away so no one could witness it.

"Arya? Arya!" Voices swirled around her, but she still sat there beside Eragon blankly. The healers rushed to remove his blood-soaked armor until he lay bare-chested on the same table she had just occupied. Even the battle-hardened healers appeared surprised at the shear number of gashes in his skin from the Empire's arrows. In contrast, Arya had had only a few minor wounds besides Murtagh's.

"_He nearly died many times trying to save you." _Saphira's thoughts echoed wearily in Arya's mind.

"_Yes," _she agreed. Arya was silent for a moment before adding, _"Saphira, can you show me everything that has happened?" _

Arya felt the dragon's hesitance. _"I have a right to know. You realize that."_ Arya's voice was insistent, but there was an unusual hollowness to her thoughts.

"_Yes," _replied Saphira. _"But I am unsure if it would be wise to show you." _Indecision racked Saphira. _Would Eragon not want Arya to know? _

"_Saphira…" _The elf could be stubborn.

"_Alright, if you are certain." _And with that, Saphira sent her a multitude of images, beginning soon after Arya passed out and with Eragon killing the first wave of soldiers.

Arya's face crinkled in shock as she saw Eragon step over her protectively and bring down a dragon with one word. _Impossible! _She saw herself die on Saphira's back and how Eragon forced her to live again by giving her his own. Her lips parted and all the air rushed from her lungs upon realizing everything Eragon had done for her, how much he loved her.

When it reached the time Oromis had said to let her die, Arya watched carefully as Eragon threatened his own master. With a morbid curiosity, she listened to the explanation of the Black-heart Resin and its effects. Then she saw her mother's face.

After the final rush of images, one in particular stood out in her mind. Eragon was bending over her, hands clutching her face. He had just torn himself from her mind, and the way he looked at her…he looked at her like no one ever had. Then her memories switched abruptly to her own as she felt his lips crush against hers.

If Saphira could feel humor while worried for her rider's life and sanity, it was now as she said smugly to Arya, _"Some kiss…" _

Arya immediately blocked her mind from Saphira's probing but not before Saphira's last thoughts reached her. _"You may be able to convince everyone else otherwise, but I know the truth, Arya. You were fully conscious when you responded to Eragon's kiss." _

…

**Author's Note: Whew... that was a difficult chapter to write. For all of you who don't get why Eragon kissed her, keep in mind that he was not entirely competent at that moment (and neither was Arya!) **

**Please, please review! I especially need them for this chapter. Everyone has been really supportive so far, and that means a lot to me! **

**Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter:** Ryder Blade, xlilypadsx, XxXmaximuM-RideXxX, girlbrighteyes, Du Moi abr Wyrda, claire1992, Julian Blake, Faerie of Murtagh, oakel, Eragon n Murtagh, mj, randomguy1517, YASHA3393, Squealing Lit. Fan, xXOcean-BabeXx

**Also, a special thank you to Squealing Lit. Fan for adding this story to its very first C2!! **

**More love to my fav./alert list people: **AddieShepherd, Aeronnen, Alyra90, Eragon n Murtagh, Faerie of Murtagh, YASHA3393, AndrewTHATSME, claire 1992, randomguy1517, xlilypadsx, Andlat Ebrithil, Axilestyn, Connor, Grimindome, Julian Blake, Lanslyna,Squealing Lit. Fan, XxXmaximuM-RideRXxX, dragonlord9292, xXOcean-BabeXx, and Du Moi abr Wyrda,Axilestyn, Link Uzumaki, Ryder Blade, beta657, girlbrighteyes, automaticsnow, and seven losers and a monkey.


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the late update, but I have a really excellent excuse considering there was a hurricane and all… Luckily, my street did not flood too badly, and the big tree that fell missed our house by like 10 feet. Scary, right? Anyway, here is the next chapter…enjoy because it's definitely a long one.**

**His Wyrda**

**Chapter 7**

The room was quiet and refreshingly cool. Eragon's skin was still burning from the remains of his fever. He tried to open his eyes, then thought better of it and pushed the confusion from his mind as he struggled to sort out all the events that had transpired.

Horrified, he recalled the way he had spoken to Oromis-ebrithil. He would have to apologize profusely as soon as he saw his master. Then a ghost of a smile crept to his lips as he remembered his and Arya's kiss. Just as suddenly, he was thrown into a vision of a dank cell in Gilead, and he felt Durza's dagger plunge into Arya's body.

His eyes sprang open as he sat upright rapidly with his breaths coming in hard gasps, his head swimming at the sudden movement. Finally, he managed to focus his vision, and he took in the room around him.

The light was thankfully overcast, and he smelled the rain before hearing it. He glanced to the corner of the room, then did a double-take as he recognized the figure there. Arya leaned casually against the wall, but he could not help but notice how rigid she appeared. Her face was carefully expressionless, and her eyes studied him unwaveringly.

Eragon looked around the room carefully, so as to not be taken by surprise again. He recognized himself to be in a spare room in Tialdari Hall, but no one else seemed to be nearby. Eragon returned his gaze to Arya whose eyes still bore into him.

A deep sigh rose inside him, and he slumped against the wall his bed was pressed against. Eragon noticed for the first time that he wore no shirt and that his torso was spotted with white bandages. _I must have been in pretty bad shape if the elves could not heal me completely,_ he thought wryly.

Wearily, he buried his face in his hands and rubbed his thumbs hard against his temples. Unsuccessfully, he tried to pretend that Arya was not still standing across the room, but he was, as always, acutely aware of her presence.

A phantom pain from her torture ripped across him, and he jerked back involuntarily against the wall. Something in his brain was still not right. After calming his breaths, he rose his gaze slowly to Arya's as she stood there regarding him silently.

Finally, he could stand it no longer. One of them had to say something, and she seemed content just standing there staring at him. "Arya…"

She lowered her gaze and took a hesitant step towards him. Perfectly still for a brief moment, Arya seemed to conclude her internal conflict before sitting lithely beside him on his bed. She looked at him sideways for a moment.

"Saphira showed me what all you did," Arya said quietly. The rain poured down outside, oblivious to the conversation between elf and rider. Arya turned her gaze to him once again, her eyes burning fiercely.

"Thank you, Eragon. For saving me." She paused for a moment. "…again."

Eragon had to turn away from the wavering intensity in her voice. "There was never any other option for me, Arya," he whispered.

They sat perfectly still for a long while, just listening to the downpour outside. Finally, Arya spoke. "Eragon…" Her voice broke, and Eragon looked up sharply in surprise. Arya was always carefully in control, but now she seemed on the verge of losing it.

"I have to know. Before… when you said _everything_…"

He looked down quickly. So she really did not know the extent of what all he had experienced. Every part of his mind did not want to tell her, but the pleading tone in her voice was breaking him in two. "Arya, I don't think…"

She cut him off abruptly, "Eragon, please!"

Never before had she sounded so desperate. Eventually, he forced his eyes up to her scorching emerald ones. He frantically attempted to find a painless method to convey the information she sought, but ultimately, he could think of no harmless way.

Many words resounded in his mind. _Durza! Rape! Torture! Evil! Shade_! But finally he managed one that would tell her everything she needed to know. Scarcely audible, Eragon murmured, "Gil'ead."

A half-choked sob broke from Arya's lips. Eragon barely heard her pain-filled whisper, and he was certain no human could have. "No one was ever supposed to know."

He turned towards her to do something, _anything_, to comfort her. The cool air of the room whooshed against his face, and he froze in shock. The pressure behind his eyes was making it difficult to concentrate, but he was certain that Arya had been sitting there a moment ago. He turned his throbbing head towards the door.

She stood rigidly at the exit, her back to Eragon. Arya was staring down at the floor while her hand gripped the doorframe so tightly that Eragon thought it might splinter and break. He sighed deeply and leaned back against the wall once more.

"I am not going to hurt you, Arya. I'm not him. Also, I stand by my words from before the Battle of the Burning Plains. I will not pursue you further without your consent."

Arya stood as still as a stone in the dark doorway. Without turning around, she whispered something barely audible above the pouring rain outside. Something Eragon was clearly not meant to hear. He would play the memory in his head countless times in the next several days, and he was certain she had faintly said, _"My consent is the part that troubles me." _

And with that, she was gone.

His entire body ached, and he felt like he would be unable to lift even a pebble with magic. Still, he was wrong inside on top of it all. _No one should be able to affect me the way she does! _

Suddenly, he became aware of the mental barriers that he had unknowingly placed around his mind to seclude himself from the world. He tentatively reached out with his mind. _"Saphira?" _

"_Little one!" _Eragon smiled despite himself at the adoration in his dragon's thoughts. _"I miss you, Saphira. It feels like I have been away for a long while."_

"_The elves insisted on keeping you inside Tialdari Hall for medical attention, and I consented once I saw the wisdom in it. Though, it has been frustrating to not be able to fit in that room."_ Eragon grinned at the disapproving tone she used for "that room."

"_Do not worry, Saphira. It seems I have been well taken care of." _His thoughts jumped straight to Arya's presence in the room when he awoke.

Very quickly, Saphira blocked some of her thoughts from Eragon, but he noticed it immediately. _"Saphira?" _he asked curiously.

Her voice changed to that of sweet innocence. _"Hmm?" _

He chuckled softly. _"You do not hide things from me very well. What were you thinking of?" _Their minds were silent as Saphira tried to worm her way out of the situation. _"Well?" _Eragon demanded.

His dragon continued in that same overly innocent tone. _"I was merely agreeing with you that you have been well watched over." _

"_How so?" _came his curt reply. She was not getting off that easy.

Saphira sighed in defeat. _"If you must know, I was recalling how much time Arya has spent in that room with you." _

His muscles clenched involuntarily at the mention of the beautiful elf. _"How long have I been out?" _he asked tensely.

Her voice took on a solemn tone as she continued. _"It has been nearly two days since you passed out. The elves were forced to be sedate you several times." _

She felt his question before he thought it._ "I could hear your screaming from the courtyard outside even though you've kept me blocked out the whole time. All of the elves have been concerned, but most assumed your breakdown was merely the result of stress and overexertion. Very few know of your intrusion into Arya's mind. It was decided that it would not be a wise thing to disclose." _

"_Islanzadi and Oromis were not sure if you would recover your mental stability. Arya refused to admit what you might possibly be so pained by. I could honestly say that I had no idea as well." _

"_But out of everyone monitoring you, Arya has been at your side nearly every moment, despite the fact that she herself is still weak. For the most part, she has just silently watched. Last night was interesting though…" _Eragon caught the wry flash of humor in Saphira's thoughts. She chuckled mischievously when he questioned her about it.

"_Well, Arya will attempt to murder me for revealing this, but… well, you were thrashing about quite a bit in your fever, and Arya had already ordered the others to leave for fear of you disclosing something personal in your moanings." _Saphira was laughing profusely at this point in her story, yet Eragon still did not comprehend her humor.

"_And, I believe she finally ended up having to straddle you on top of the bed and physically force your hands down above your head to restrain you." _

Eragon blushed a deep crimson as he considered the situation.

Saphira continued on humorously. _"When Arya realized I saw, she started yelling some bit about me being useful and assisting her instead of staring. In all, I found the predicament most amusing." _

Eragon let out a deep, embarrassed sigh. It seemed like that was all he had been doing lately- sighing. He pushed the complicated enigma that is Arya to the back of his mind. _"Where are you, Saphira?" _

"_Islanzadi called a council meeting earlier this evening pertaining to any retaliation from the Varden on the Empire. She asked that I be present to recount the battle while you were unable to. I have already done so and am waiting for this long-winded elf lord to finish so that something productive can be done." _

Eragon glanced around the room he was in until locating a pile of clothing in the corner. _"I believe I will join you, Saphira. If I allow myself to sit here and think any longer, I might go insane." _

He sensed her hesitation at him moving about so soon, but finally she consented.

Unsteadily, he rose to his feet and warily tested his limbs. His legs held under him, and he stretched painfully. Angry at his weakness, Eragon pulled a neatly folded tunic over his head harshly, and successfully ripped one of the bandages on his shoulder. If only he could heal himself!

While flexing his fingers, Eragon noticed a small cut on his hand remaining from the flight back to Ellesmera. Hesitantly, he focused on the shallow wound and mumbled, "Weis heill." He stumbled back against the wall as his knees buckled underneath him. This did nothing to improve his increasingly foul mood. _I cannot even heal a scratch! _Eragon felt Saphira's concern radiating from her mind, but she did not say anything.

He stepped warily out into the long hall and followed it until coming to the edge of Tialdari Hall's magnificent gardens. The rain still poured down from above, and Eragon felt the light spray of water droplets rebounding from the slick leaves encompassing him.

He let the refreshing scent infuse his being as he troubled to keep Arya's torture from plaguing his thoughts. He had barely survived the initial onslaught of memories, and he knew that he could not hope to retain his sanity if his mind continued to revisit the dreadful scenes. With determination, Eragon began to move towards the Queen's hall.

As he walked, his mind traveled. The aching hole he had felt in his being after first leaving Arya's home on that one perfect day had transformed into something entirely more consuming. Now, Eragon felt a desperate need to see Arya, to know she was safe and well.

Eragon shook his head despondently. This was not normal, not at all. He should not desire to see the one person capable of sending his thoughts into torture. By all rights, he should give Arya all the space one would need after being forced to reveal their deepest secrets. But now, he felt an intimate closeness to the entrancing elf that haunted his thoughts. By living her pain, he found that he knew her better than anyone else, but still so much of her eluded him.

Her actions never ceased to confuse him in addition to her abrupt changes of moods. But Eragon realized that it was not just her mysteriousness that drew him to her, for he found that every thing he discovered about Arya only served to make him love her all the more- the known as much as the unknown.

The limbs of the mighty pine trees above him hung low to the ground, laden with heavy beads of rain. Occasionally, a fat droplet would release its grasp on the pine needles and fall down on Eragon's slow-moving figure below.

He continued his way to Islanzadi's meeting hall to accompany Saphira. Ignoring the throbbing of his skull, Eragon entered the room and surveyed the clusters of elves speaking among themselves in varying degrees of argument. Spotting Saphira instantly, he slipped past the groups to her side.

"_You missed a most enlightening speech, Eragon. Two hours of repeating the same concerns over and over…" _Her voice was light and teasing, but Eragon knew she was studying him intently.

"I am fine, Saphira," he said softly, answering her unasked question. After a long moment, his dragon relented her inspection and said, _"If you are sure." _

_I'm not sure, _he thought to himself. _Merely hopeful that it is true._ By this time Islanzadi had locked her gaze on Eragon and was striding over to the two of them. If she was surprised at seeing him, she did not show it. With an impressive display of dignity, the Queen coolly inspected Eragon much like Saphira had done, though without the emotional concern his dragon had shown.

Islanzadi nodded slightly to herself as if satisfied with his appearance. "Shadeslayer, you seem greatly improved since I last laid eyes on you."

Eragon wondered briefly when she was referring to- conscious or not. Then, he accepted the compliment and touched his fingers to his lips. "Thank you, my lady," he replied while inclining his head respectfully.

"We have much to discuss concerning the purpose of the Red Rider's attack and your condition, but it must wait for another time. I have much to do and am now slightly behind schedule." A glint of irritation flashed in her eye as she spoke the last.

Distracted, Eragon wondered if the reason he could recognize the signals of the usually unreadable elf was because of his experience with discerning Arya's feelings. He supposed that the Queen would reasonably be similar to her daughter.

While Eragon was lost in his thoughts, a pair of elves approached Islanzadi with some concern or another, and with a polite nod at Eragon and Saphira, she became otherwise occupied.

Eragon became intensely uncomfortable after spotting some of the healing elves that had witnessed his outbursts with Oromis and his display with Arya. The Queen was dignified enough to not mention any of it in the presence of so many, but Eragon did not know how much discretion the healing masters would use or where their loyalties remained.

Desperate for escape, Eragon began making his way slowly to the exit with Saphira as various elves halted their conversations to acknowledge them and wish Eragon well. On the outside, Eragon responded courteously all the while internally wincing with each look of pity.

He hated being thought weak, and having laid unconscious in a sick room for two days made him feel helpless. Saphira shrewdly picked up on his hidden thoughts and said, _"None think any less of you, little one. Everyone that was present at our arrival is aware of your sacrifices, and now only think higher of Eragon Shadeslayer for the burdens you carry." _

Eragon took a small bit of comfort from Saphira's words, but still he escaped from the crowd as hurriedly as possible. He had managed to avoid any awkward confrontation concerning his recent actions, and Eragon was immensely grateful that he would have more time to collect his thoughts. How could he hope to explain his actions if he did not even understand them himself?

As soon as he breathed in the rain-cleansed air, he felt infinitely better. The rain had all but stopped as they meandered through the paths of Ellesmera, dragon and rider relishing the quiet and serenity of the forest for a brief time.

Eragon considered how much more comfortable he was in the open air as opposed to low ceilings and cramped walls. Not that the Elvin halls were in any way small, it was just that he preferred the freedom of unrestricted nature. Once again, Eragon was grateful for his time in Du Weldenvarden because he knew the elves' relationship with nature was not rivaled anywhere in Alagaesia.

He wondered if Arya preferred being out of doors more so than other elves because of her time spent in a cell in Gil'ead. Just from her memories of it, Eragon already detested being in confined areas and cramped spaces.

Eventually, he was pulled from his thoughts by movement in the corner of his eye. Saphira was attempting to study him nonchalantly from every possible angle which made her appear quite possessed. Quickly, she would bob her head in one direction or another to view him from a different perspective, then would pretend to be studying some rock or tree absentmindedly. It continued like that for many minutes until Eragon could stand it no longer. He alternated between being angry and feeling amused, and eventually he settled on the latter and let out a chuckle of laughter.

Despite the fact that his body was screaming for rest, he leapt onto Saphira's back and exclaimed, "Take off, my dragon!"

Obligingly, Saphira pushed heavily from the earth below them and glided upwards into the misty sky. Relaxing his tense muscles, Eragon let all of his troubles fall from his mind like autumn leaves from the boughs of a tree. Alagaesia, Murtagh, the Varden, Galbatorix, and the war drifted away from his consciousness. Yet, his awareness of Arya never faded. She was as much a part of him now as the magic that flowed through Saphira's veins was a part of her.

Soaring above the giant pines, they came to one of Du Weldenvarden's small lakes. Saphira turned her powerful neck to glance back at him, raising one scaly eyebrow. He smiled at his beautiful, sapphire dragon and consented, "I could use a wash." And so they dove into the crystal waters.

Both left the small lake feeling cleansed of the blood and grime of battle, but Eragon soon realized that some things could not be washed away as easily as dust and dirt.

With a heavy sigh, Eragon turned his mind to all of the problems that lay before him. Already, he had wasted much time avoiding the dilemmas he faced. First and foremost, the issue of Murtagh and Thorn… Eragon knew he had incapacitated the blood-red dragon for some time, but he could only estimate how long it would take Thorn to recuperate. But once the great dragon recovered, Galbatorix would undoubtedly pour out his fury upon the Varden.

Eragon felt a stab of pity for his blood-brother, for it was certain that Galbatorix's retribution for failure was severe. Troubled, he pushed these thoughts from his mind. If he and Saphira had any hope of destroying the Empire, thinking of Murtagh as his friend and brother would have to cease altogether. _But he had seemed to regret releasing the arrow… _

Eragon stubbornly pushed his thoughts from his mind, for he could not afford such notions. He would discuss the situation of Murtagh with the Elvin council at another time. Thinking of the wise elders caused Eragon's mind to flit to another old, knowledgeable elf.

_Oromis-ebrithil. _A wave of guilt surged through Eragon's being. The things he had said to his master! Such words would surely have him banned from Ellesmera under normal circumstances, but Eragon was hopeful that he could rectify his wrong.

"Saphira, Oromis-ebrithil deserves my swift apology." The mighty dragon inclined her head in agreement and angled in the direction of their master's hut. The dust on the ground danced in lazy circles as Saphira landed gently on the bare earth near Oromis's dwelling.

His heart pounding, Eragon approached the hut cautiously and prepared for the worst. Oromis's frail form appeared in the darkened doorway, and with the one look at his master's pained expression, Eragon fell to his knees.

"Ebrithil, I cry your pardon! The way I have behaved is most inexcusable." Eragon's voice lowered slightly. "Carry out my punishment as you see fit. I am in your hands."

The old elf studied him for an intense moment, and Eragon had to force himself to remain quiet.

"Rise." Eragon responded subserviently in kind. "You have grown much, Eragon-finiarel. You have recognized your wrong and made no excuse for it. This displays a growing maturity, and I am proud to call you pupil."

Eragon's eyes watered uncontrollably at his master's kind words. This was not at all the reaction he had expected. "You would forgive me, ebrithil?" he asked, voice hopeful.

Oromis nodded slowly. "You still have much to learn, young Eragon, but you are on your way."

Relief washed over Eragon. "Thank you, thank you," he said breathlessly. Oromis studied him again, eyes taking in every detail of the dragon rider before him. It seemed like that was all anyone was doing to him recently- studying. _What are they all looking for? _he thought strangely.

Oromis spoke thoughtfully, "We will wait some time before discussing your experience with Arya's mind."

Eragon's gut clenched tightly, and he felt his heart ripping at the mention of his experience. Clearly, Oromis did not understand the true extent of his turmoil at the topic.

Careful to not overstep his bounds again, Eragon said quietly, "I apologize, ebrithil, but there is very little I will reveal about my experience." His voice was soft but unwaveringly firm.

Oromis appeared to consider this for a moment. Apparently deciding not to push the conversation further, he ended with, "Until we next convene, Eragon."

Saphira added her goodbyes, and they sprang into the air once again. As soon as they departed from Oromis's view, Eragon let down his façade of strength. He had never felt exhaustion to this extent before, and it had required most of his strength to conceal it from Oromis. Looking back, Saphira eyed him with obvious concern.

Eragon noticed that he was not the only who had not recovered their full strength. The strong beat of Saphira's wings seemed more labored than usual as she pushed through the thick air. As they headed back towards the center of Ellesmera, Eragon told Saphira, "I believe it would be easiest to return to the spare room in Tialdari Hall for this night. I do not believe that I could manage the stairs of our tree home."

Saphira consented, but privately she thought, _Silly boy, he is too tired to remember I could fly him up. _She refrained from saying anything, though, since she believed it best for Eragon to be near the Elvin healers until he fully recovered.

The azure sky was fringed with deep gold as the sun completed its day's journey across the endless sky. Eragon was struggling to keep his eyes open with the side of his face pressed against Saphira's cool neck. She glided over the magnificent garden of Tialdari Hall on the way to Eragon's makeshift bedchambers.

His vision was hazy with sleep, but at the farthest corner of the expansive garden, Eragon recognized a familiar raven-haired figure obscured from all but the sky's view. Arya sat as motionless as a stone upon a low, curved tree branch among the multitude of color-filled blooms. Her eyes were closed, and her appearance was that of peace.

But Eragon saw through it with one glance. The tight edge of her lips and the slight crease of her straight eyebrows expressed how forced the pose was. Eragon blinked to focus his eyesight. Arya's form was that of a goddess, a statue, perfect and unmoving. The only hint of life was the soft flowing of her midnight hair gently caressing her face in the slight breeze.

Eragon had only a few seconds to witness this natural wonder before Saphira turned and landed in the courtyard, but his memory of Arya's marble form was emblazoned in his mind. He sleepily staggered into his dark room while carelessly pulling off his tunic and slinging it across the room unceremoniously. He collapsed into the soft, rippling sheets of the bed and fell into a sleep one reserves for when you have not rested in many days.

…

He heard a voice. It was muted strangely like the sound was traveling to him through a deep expanse of water. The lilting cadence pulled him from the dark void he was drowning in and brought him to awareness. Eragon felt his blood boiling and his skin burning while his body refused to respond to any of his confused thoughts. _What is happening?_

Desperately, he threw up shield after shield to protect his mind from the onslaught of images clouding his senses. But it was to no avail, these confusions were seeded within his own mind. As the darkness threatened to overtake him, Eragon once again focused on the vibrato that was sounding around him.

When Durza's flashing maroon eyes continued to scorch his vision, he cried out with despair. He thrashed out with all his strength, but something was holding him firmly in place. Struggling futilely, Eragon felt a deathly fury burning strongly inside him with each haunting image. Yelling out against the unseen force, he screamed, "I'll kill him!"

Insanely, he continued to shout his threat. _"I will kill him." _His hazy senses began to function as his rage slowly diminished and transformed into a terrible sadness.

Firm on his shoulders, a pressure was still pinning him down. Eragon rapidly blinked his eyes, but could not get a clear view of his surroundings for the tears welling in them. Suddenly, he became aware of a scent so familiar, so enticing, and it cleared away some of the confusion in his mind. He felt a soft breath against his skin and the cool grain of bare wood pressing against his fevered back.

This time he was successful in focusing his vision, and the first image to meet his eyes was an endless depth of swirling emerald. He lost himself in it for what seemed like many lifetimes, and he whispered the last thought circling itself around his brain. _"I'll kill him." _

Just as quietly, the voice that had saved him whispered back, "You already have."

Then, Eragon remembered. The shattered fragments of the Isidar Mithrim rained down around him in his memory as he plunged Zar'roc into the Shade.

Regaining his composure, he looking around and found himself to be wedged against the floor and wall in a darkened room. The bed he had collapsed in earlier was on the wall opposite him, and he considered how strange it was for the bed sheets to be scattered all about the floor. Through the distant window, he caught the reflection of Saphira's large, glittering eye as she peered with concern into the room.

Eragon returned his attention to the figure holding him down. Soft, raven hair was brushing lightly against his face and shoulders. Her breaths were coming almost as rapidly as his own, and her cheeks were slightly flushed. The light from a distant werelight reflected off her astonishing eyes, and Eragon lost himself discerning their profound meanings.

The elf's countenance showed relief mingled with caution, and there appeared also an unmistakable sadness in those swirling green orbs. Her flawless lips were parted slightly, and her face looked almost hungry.

Eragon was suddenly acutely aware of Arya's smooth fingers on his chest where they still pinned him against the wall and floor. Heat burned under his skin, and he felt every pound of his heartbeat. A small bead of sweat rolled down his neck, and Arya's eyes moved from his own to follow its travel down Eragon's muscles. Using her distraction wisely, Arya moved slowly back from the panting dragon rider. Eragon's body quivered as she slid her delicate fingers off his shoulders and stepped back.

Arya continued backing away until her back hit the wall opposite him. The silence stretched on, and the tension in the room was almost tangible until finally Arya spoke. Mesmerized, Eragon watched her lips move while she explained. "Saphira asked me to come wake you from your trance. She could not reach you, and you were about to harm yourself." The elf's voice shook with poorly concealed emotion.

"Thank you." His two words were simple enough, but it had taken an eternity before Eragon could seem to wrap his tongue around the phrase and force it out.

Arya nodded, then glided out from the room without a backwards glance.

Eragon pushed himself up from the floor and made his way over to his borrowed bed without bothering to straighten his scattered sheets. _"What…what was that about?" _he questioned to Saphira, but his dragon's thoughts were guarded.

"_Sleep, little one. You need much rest." _

…

**Author's Note: Well, what did you think? I know that it might have been a little slow in the middle, but after I analyzed Arya's character, I realized she would not want to deal with a conscious Eragon after what happened (unconscious is a whole different story!) **

**This chapter was mainly about Eragon dealing with what happened, and the next chapter is more about everyone else's response. Also, I just finished the rough draft of the final chapter (lemon, anyone?), and I am really excited about how it turned out. :) Keep reading to find out…**

**On to my undying appreciation of my readers…All of you who read this story are amazing! I have so many dedicated reviewers that always make me feel so much better about my crappy writing: **Squealing Lit. Fan, mj, xXOcean-BabeXx (I laughed out loud at this one!), Ryder Blade, yasha3393, Alyra90, Macsek92, ggggw4, claire1992 (I can't believe I did that to Arya either), XxXmaximuM-RideXxX, xlilypadsx, Faerie of Murtagh, Du Moi abr Wyrda, Vampyren, Harbinger of Light, andrewTHATSME, and Scannlan.

**Thanks to those of you who put me on your fav./alert list: **AddieShepherd, Andlat Ebrithil, Arya 4 ever., Axilestyn, Aeronnen, Alyra90, Eragon n Murtagh, Faerie of Murtagh, YASHA3393, AndrewTHATSME, claire 1992, randomguy1517, xlilypadsx, Connor, Grimindome, Harbringer of Light, Julian Blake, KTHM, Lanslyna, Scannlan, Squealing Lit. Fan, XxXmaximuM-RideRXxX, dragonlord9292, xXOcean-BabeXx, and Du Moi abr Wyrda,Axilestyn, Link Uzumaki, Ryder Blade, beta657, girlbrighteyes, japjapcat, ggggw4, automaticsnow, and seven losers and a monkey.


	9. Chapter 8

**His Wyrda**

**Chapter 8**

Eragon rose fitfully the next morning after tossing and turning for the remainder of the night since Arya left. These troubled memories would have to stop if had any hope of getting a good night's rest. Even though he had not had a peaceful night, he still felt much better than he had the previous morning. Today, he was a step above being half-dead, and he was thankful that his strength was slowly returning.

Eragon knew that he would have to face Islanzadi's questioning today, and the very thought of it filled him with dread. To prolong meeting with her, he half-hazardly went through his morning rituals as best he could in the spare room. Finally, all that remained was for him to shave. For several long minutes, Eragon simply stared at the reflection of his stubble in the small mirror. He could not shave the human way without cutting his face to ribbons, and he was not eager to repeat his failure from yesterday when using magic had nearly brought him to his knees._ I have to try it eventually. Anyway, if I fail here, at least no one will witness it,_ he reasoned.

With that thought, he spoke the words in the Ancient Language to rid his face of hair. Delight spread through him as his slight beard floated to the ground like dust. Opening his mind to Saphira, he exclaimed, _"I shaved!" _

Their mental link was silent as Saphira questioned her rider's sanity. Sensing that his statement needed clarification, Eragon continued, _"I can use magic again." _

With that, Saphira laughed, saying, _"I am glad, little one. For a moment there, I was not sure if you were…feeling like yourself." _

Eragon sighed exasperatedly. _"Why does everyone insist that there is something mentally wrong with me?"_ But as soon as the words left his mouth, he remembered the night before. Saphira was silent as she sensed his memory of the event.

The side-effects of being in Arya's mind were persistently haunting him, and he had almost lost the battle last night. In fact, he was sure that he would have given in to the pain had Arya not spoken to him. Deep inside, Eragon felt a burning fire as he recalled Arya's face mere inches from his own and the memory of her hands on his chest, but what he remembered most of all was the expression of her face. _What had she been thinking of and why had she seemed so… _He could not put into words the way she had looked a him. Did he dare think it? The way she had looked at him, had it been…desire?

Eragon pushed all of the thoughts away. It would do him no good to fabricate feelings where none existed. On his face, he set a look of iron resolve as he went out to meet Saphira. He would not allow the tortures of the night to affect his days. Relaxing at the sight of his sapphire dragon, Eragon ran his hand down the glistening scales of her neck. "Good morning, Saphira," he said with enthusiasm he did not know he possessed.

"_And good morning to you, as well." _

For the first time, Eragon noticed the forest around him. New blooms and bright green leaves were bursting forth from every plant and tree. The previous day's rain had lavished the soil with moisture, and all of nature responded with fresh life and growth. _That will be me_, he thought. _I will become better than I was before and grow from my experiences. _

Saphira grinned down at her rider. _"I believe that we have some extra time before Islanzadi expects us." _

Eragon grinned back at her as he read the hint in her voice. With eagerness, he leapt onto her saddle-less back before she took off into the sky. Grasping her sides with only his thighs, Eragon raised his arms wide and felt the air whip around his fingers as they soared through the morning air. The feeling of unbound freedom spread through him until he felt compelled to express it.

He inhaled a deep breath, then yelled out with all his might from high above the earth. Invigorated by the feeling, he cried out again. As all his breath left him, so did his heavy concerns and worries. He quickly wrapped his arms around Saphira's neck as she plunged into a downward spiral of corkscrews and flips.

When they reached the floor of the forest, both were knocked breathless from the flight. With his courage freshly intact, Eragon strode into the Hall to meet with Islanzadi. The Queen spotted him instantly from her place at the head of the room. "Come in, Eragon. You have arrived at a perfect time. We have just begun our discussion."

With a quick scan of the room, Eragon noted that there were a third as many elves as there had been at the last meeting, and Eragon guessed that the smaller number was due to Islanzadi's impatience with so many needless interruptions. Today, something would be accomplished. He inclined his head to the Queen and the others while placing two fingers against his lips before making his way to one of the few empty seats. He chose one close to Islanzadi but with plenty of room behind it for Saphira to occupy comfortably.

Discretely as possible, he took in the perfect features of the midnight-haired elf across the table from him and self-consciously ran his fingers though his extremely wind-blown hair as he fell under Arya's careful gaze. He noticed that she showed no sign of being woken in the middle of the night to deal with a nightmare-ridden dragon rider. Her long, black hair flowed gracefully down over her shoulders, and her emerald eyes shined brightly in contrast to her raven hair.

The meeting began, and Eragon forced his attention back to the problems at hand. Islanzadi gave a brief recount of the attack on the elves' way-station, while occasionally asking Eragon or Arya for clarification on a certain area. He managed to answer all of her questions without any outward show of emotion, and for that he was proud of himself, especially considering the fiery rage that consumed him each time he recalled what Murtagh and Thorn had done.

Oftentimes, his memory of specific details escaped him, and he had to rely on Saphira to fill in the hazy areas. Eragon thought it strange that he could not remember the exact number of the Empire's soldiers that had charged them, yet he could recall every inch of Arya's contorted features as she had grasped weakly at the arrow imbedded in her flesh.

The meetings topic eventually turned to the reports of the Empire's recent activities, and Eragon listened intently for any mention of Murtagh and Thorn. The only information he gleaned was that the Varden's spies had seen the red dragon and his rider return to Urûbaen, but the state of the two of them upon their return was unclear. Eragon ignored his uneasiness at every mention of his blood-brother and took comfort in the fact that only Arya and Islanzadi knew of his relation to Murtagh. To distract his thoughts, he threw himself into battle strategies and war tactics.

As Islanzadi continued her voice grew solemn, "I believe it to be best if we attack quickly and without leniency. Our downfall in the past has been letting Galbatorix control the time and place of our battles. Each time we have fallen into his traps or just barely managed to fend off his assaults. The Varden has fought bravely against the Empire's forces at both Farthen Dûr and the Burning Plains. It is time for the elves to lend more than just the idea of our support."

She turned to look directly at Eragon. "The elves will fight with the Varden, but we stand no chance without a dragon and rider on our side."

"And you shall have that, my lady," he answered while returning her gaze unwaveringly. He felt Arya's eyes on him, but he did not break the Queen's gaze until she finally said, "Very well."

Hours flew by as endless planning and consulting continued. Throughout the meeting, Islanzadi kept contact with Nasuada through Arya to ensure complete compliance between the Varden in Surda and the elves. They all took a brief break for lunch, but the meal was rushed as everyone realized the importance of finalizing their plans quickly. The opportunity of having Thorn incapacitated was rare, and everyone agreed that the time for attack was now, before Galbatorix had a chance to re-gather his forces.

Throughout the evening, there had been much discussion as to why Arya had been singled out for attack. As the topic had returned to her again and again, Arya's expression had remained purposefully blank. Eragon decided that the subject was probably uncomfortable for her and decided to bring an end to it while the others were out to lunch.

He returned to the meeting hall early and found only Arya and Islanzadi in the room. He cleared his throat and turned to address Islanzadi directly, "I have thought much on the subject of Arya's attack and would like to explain what I've concluded to the both of you in private."

The Queen nodded for him to continue while Arya looked up in interest.

"I do not believe that Galbatorix is aware of Arya's line to the throne because none in the Varden know of it, so not even spies could have extracted that information. Galbatorix _does_ remember your withdrawal of support with Arya's last capture, and I have no doubt that he hoped for a similar reaction from you. The Varden would soon fall without the aid of the elves and dwarves."

"As for the specific selection of Arya, Murtagh knows of Arya's position as ambassador, therefore Galbatorix does as well. He assumed that Arya would be the one to accompany Saphira and I in our response to Murtagh's attack, and rightly so, since we fell exactly into his plan. And lastly…"

Eragon struggled to put into words what he had spent the early morning hours dwelling on. "…I believe that Murtagh was ordered to accomplish the withdrawal of the elves' support while personally hurting me as much as possible in the progress."

Islanzadi raised an eyebrow at him while in the corner of his eye, Eragon saw Arya shoot him a warning glance. He continued slowly and firmly despite the difficulty of what he was saying. "Murtagh was traveling with Saphira and I when I was captured at Gil'ead. Murtagh was the one who helped me rescue Arya from Durza's imprisonment."

Eragon twitched slightly at the mention of the Shade, but it seemed that Arya was the only one who noticed. Islanzadi was too busy processing his statement. The information was not new, but he doubted that she had made the connection. He paused a moment before adding, "Murtagh was aware of my connection with Arya as he was present during our race to Farthen Dûr, and I believe it was for this reason that Arya was singled out. To hurt me."

Across the table, Arya opened her mouth as if to argue, then shut it just as quickly. Eragon smiled grimly. "There is no around it."

The three of them looked to the door as they heard the approach of the other members of the council. Islanzadi considered them silently before adding, "If what you say is true, we must be more cautious from this point forward. Eragon, do you believe that you and Saphira can match Thorn and Murtagh when we initiate an attack?"

Confidently, Eragon responded as the others filed in, "Aye, we will do what we must." He had realized long ago that he would do anything to protect the ones he cared about.

After the members of the council had settled into their chairs, the endless strategizing continued where it had left off. Dusk began to fall outside, and the night crickets could be heard chirping drearily. Finally, Islanzadi dismissed the council after an entire day of planning. But, they had accomplished their goal. The Varden would retaliate against the Empire while it was in a weakened state, and this time, the elves would be aiding their strength to the attack. Nasuada had approved of their plans, and the Varden and the elves would march to battle as soon as their forces could be mustered.

Eragon stretched and rose to leave with the other elves, but the Queen motioned for he and Arya to remain. Eragon groaned inwardly. He had hoped to escape any mention of his public display with Arya. He noticed that Arya seemed even more rigid than normal, and her eyebrows were pulled together in a frown. "Yes, Mother?"

"Sit down, Arya. I believe we have another subject to discuss."

Islanzadi turned her attention to Eragon, and he gulped uncertainly. He felt like a ten-year-old boy being scolded by his Aunt Marian. "Eragon, Oromis has informed me that you refuse to speak of your time inside Arya's mind."

At this, Arya looked up at him swiftly. Surprise was written plainly across her face, and Eragon thought he recognized relief hidden there as well. Islanzadi continued, "I cannot in good conscious allow you to go off into battle without knowing the extent of your condition."

Eragon stammered, "…condition?"

"I have spoken extensively with Oromis concerning the effects of the poison, and he is uncertain of the consequences of what you've done. Never before has anyone survived the procedure, and I believe it necessary for you to explain your experience in full and possibly allow Oromis to read your memories of the event," she said, voice demanding and full of authority.

Arya's eyes widened, and her gaze bore holes in the wooden table in front of her. After taking in her expression, Eragon realized with horror exactly what Islanzadi was asking of him. To have to describe Arya's torture at the hands of the Shade would be unbearable, especially having to describe it to Arya's own mother. Also, he could think of nothing worse than to allow Oromis to sift through his memories. It would be a complete violation of Arya's trust.

So it was with no inhibitions whatsoever that he replied, "I am truly sorry, my lady, but there is nothing that needs to be revealed. I cannot allow such intrusions to occur."

Islanzadi looked up sharply in surprise, as did Arya. Clearly, neither expected him to deny the Queen. He continued firmly, "I am dealing with the repercussions of my actions, and I do not deem it necessary to spread the evil of the world any further than it already reaches."

A furious expression flashed across Islanzadi's face, and realizing that she had no power over a dragon rider, she turned her wrath on her daughter. "Arya! Surely you realize the fallacy in this. Would you have the fate of our people extinguished because of his modesty?"

Anger flashed in Arya's green eyes. "If you place the fate of our people on Eragon's back, then you must also recognize his authority to make his own decisions! What Eragon chooses to reveal is his decision to make."

Eragon looked between the two of them in surprise. Most captivating of all was Arya's voice. He had not known it possible for someone to sound so angry and so sad at the same moment. He could understand Arya agreeing with him about not sharing his, or really _her_, memories, but there seemed to be something else behind her statements. With each of her burning words, Eragon sensed that Arya was not entirely talking about just him, but he could not fathom what else it could be.

Islanzadi's temper flared at her daughter's rebellion. "He would yield to his convictions if _you_ asked it of him, Arya! My daughter, do not think me blind! I was present from the moment Eragon carried you bleeding into our city until the instant you regained consciousness, or did you presume to think I had forgotten the action between the two of you?"

Eragon stiffened and stared at the Queen. Arya recoiled as if she had been struck. She abruptly stood from her chair and walked past her mother to the exit. All the fury had faded from her voice as she turned back to look at Islanzadi. With unbearable sadness, she exclaimed, "Why do you insist on tormenting me so, Mother? You know of my pain like none else do, but you are _blind_ to my most recent sacrifices. Have you no compassion for your only daughter's suffering?"

Islanzadi's shocked gaze followed Arya's figure as she rigidly left the room. Eragon stood uncomfortably and made his way to the door. "If you will excuse me, my lady," he said hesitantly. Islanzadi only nodded while her gaze remained transfixed to the spot Arya had last occupied.

Eragon's mind whirled, and he struggled to comprehend what he had just witnessed. Arya had taken up for him, of that he was certain, but why had she been so angry? Why had he had the feeling that there was more behind their words than what he had perceived?

Internally, he debated the wisdom of running after Arya, and in the end, he threw good reason to the wind and rushed after her. Saphira, equally unsure of the situation, glided above him. As Eragon drew closer to the Elvin princess, Saphira left them to sort out their issues in private and to do some heavy thinking of her own. Eragon forced his breaths to slow as he approached the outline of Arya's form.

The beautiful elf stood clutching the balcony of a narrow bridge that arched over a small pond nestled in the distant reaches of Ellesmera's gardens. Eragon noted that she had put a considerable distance between herself and Islanzadi in a very short amount of time. Hesitantly, he made his way up the narrow platform and stopped behind Arya, suddenly unsure of what to say.

Eragon took a great deal of comfort in the fact that she did not tense at his approach. In fact, Arya seemed almost to relax as she placed more weight against the handrail of the balcony. Eragon was silent for a moment as he watched the dizzying patterns of the fireflies dancing over the pond's waters. Finally he spoke the honest words of the Ancient Language. "I feel I am responsible…"

"Don't," she said, cutting him off. Then, Arya turned towards him slightly with a weak smile. "Do not trouble yourself with such things. Islanzadi and I disagree on…her views on many areas. If it were not you, it would be something else."

She threw Eragon a slight smile to assure him that it was not he that she was upset with, but it did not touch her eyes. "Do not let mine and my mother's past make you uncomfortable. We have not seen on the same level for quite some time."

Then, she turned back to face the expanse of the gardens. The wind swirled around them both, and Eragon's tunic fluttered only inches from Arya's back. The narrow bridge had forced him to stand closer to Arya than he ever would normally dare. Eragon silently took a deep breath and inhaled the fresh scent of the multitude of flowers surrounding them. Placing one hand on the rail of the balcony beside her, he angled himself to better view the gardens in front of them.

Arya's dark hair obscured most of her face as the wind curled tendrils of black along her delicately pointed ear. Eragon found that from this angle, he could study the beautiful elf without her knowing he was looking at her instead of the forest beyond. He could not comprehend the melancholy that permeated her presence, and as he often did, he lost himself in deciphering her emotions.

There was so much to say between them, so much that desperately needed to be discussed, but neither seemed willing to break the comfortable silence that stretched deeper into the evening. As the moments passed with Eragon staring at her flawless features, his closeness to her began to be anything but comfortable. The space between them seemed charged, and Eragon felt that if he would just reach out, he would be able to actually feel the heavy atmosphere of the air around them.

He shivered at the tension between them and wondered if Arya was as aware of it as he was. Studying her for any sign, he focused on how shallow and forced her breaths seemed. _What had changed between them?_ Before, Eragon had always felt an excitement in her presence, but it was nothing like the intense spark between them now.

The air around them was beginning to suffocate him in his lungs, and Eragon fought his unbidden emotions without success. Arya finally moved from in front of him and turned to look briefly into his eyes before leaving the bridge. With that one look, she answered Eragon's earlier thoughts. _Yes_, she was definitely aware of the tension between the two of them.

Her form melted into the darkness as Eragon took a moment to regain control of his limbs. _So much for working out the issues between us_, he thought wryly. Eragon followed her light footsteps out of the garden before turning to enter the spare room he had been sleeping in. As he crashed into the bed, he was unaware of Saphira's scrutinizing gaze.

…

"_Arya?" _The dragon's thought echoed around the elf's guarded mind, and as she lowered her defenses, Saphira sensed a confusing rush of conflicting emotions before Arya could hide them carefully away.

"_Saphira, is there something wrong?" _

"_Not in the sense you mean. I merely wanted to discuss a matter with you." _

"_Oh?" _Arya's curt reply was wary and full of suspicion. Saphira chuckled to herself. Arya had good reason to be cautious, especially considering what she was about to hear. For far too long, Saphira had observed Arya's inner turmoil, and she was tired of the elf's stubbornness. At Arya's words this afternoon, Saphira had decided to confront her about her feelings. With a righteous anger, the mighty dragon jumped straight into her purpose for contacting Arya.

"_Why do you deny yourself, Arya? The arguments you have previously held no longer stand true." _

Arya's voice was immediately hostile. _"I do not know of what you speak." _

Saphira's angry roar echoed loudly in her mind. _"You are fully aware of what I speak, elf! I have sensed your feelings for my rider, and I do not appreciate your continuous lies about them!" _

Arya was outright angry now, but before she could block the dragon from her mind, Saphira yelled forcefully, _"Hear me out, Arya. You've stated several reasons in the past that you and Eragon could not be together. Trust me, I know them by heart because of the endless times they have repeated themselves in my young rider's mind, and I am merely asking you to reconsider." _

Arya attempted to interrupt the ranting dragon, but each time she tried, Saphira simply thundered louder. _"You have argued that he is human and that you are elf-kind, but even now, Eragon's appearance is more that of an elf than of a human. Also, you know that he will age just as slowly as you will. As for him being too young for you, Eragon has seen enough in the past year to age him twice beyond his years. Look at him closely, Arya, and you will see the man he has become." _

Saphira continued on mercilessly. _"You have said that a relationship would distract you both from your duties. Do you honestly consider the way you two dance around one another to not be distracting? And finally, you expressed your concern that you could be used against one another in battle. I think that Eragon did an excellent job voiding that argument earlier on this very day. Galbatorix has already used your relationship against you, and that would not change with any further revelations between the two of you." _

"_That is all I wanted to say. Think on it, Arya. I bid you goodnight." _And with that, Saphira withdrew abruptly from the stunned elf's mind. The great dragon curled up in the courtyard and hummed to herself. _That should give her something to think over! _Then she fell into a deep, satisfied sleep.

…

**Haha, Saphira let Arya have it. Anyway, please review! Most of this chapter was simply a set up for the ending of the story, so I'm sorry if it was a little boring. (I did not want to rush things too much.) **

**Okay, on to business. I was wondering if ya'll want me to post Chapter 9 and the Epilogue at the same time, or if you would prefer them separate. I really can't decide, but you might want a breather after Chapter 9... **

**Never mind, I will probably post them at the same time since that's what I did with the Prologue and Chapter 1. You will just have to promise to review Ch.9 before you read the next one. :)**

**A huge thanks to my loyal reviewers! (Shrinks back after being chewed out for my "crappy" comment, :) Thanks for encouraging me!)** Social Bunny, Faerie of Murtagh,xXOcean-BabeXx, Harbringer of Light, xlilypadsx,Du Moi abr Wyrda, Squealing Lit. Fan, YASHA3393, Clairer55, Scannlan, japjapcat, claire1992, Vampyren, Youngk, BlackBird'292, and XxXmaximuM-RideRXxX.

**And to you awesome people on my alert and fav. list: **AddieShepherd, Andlat Ebrithil, andrewTHATSME, Arya 4 ever., Axilestyn, Aeronnen, Alyra90, Blackbird'292, claire 1992, Clairer55, Connor, Eragon n Murtagh, Faerie of Murtagh, randomguy1517, xlilypadsx, Grimindome, Harbringer of Light, Julian Blake, KTHM, Lanslyna, Link Uzumaki, Scannlan, Squealing Lit. Fan, XxXmaximuM-RideRXxX, dragonlord9292, xXOcean-BabeXx, Du Moi abr Wyrda, Axilestyn, Ryder Blade, beta657, girlbrighteyes, japjapcat, ggggw4, automaticsnow, seven losers and a monkey, Youngk, acid2000, my0t1, and YASHA3393.


	10. Chapter 9

**Warning: This chapter is the other reason for the M rating. (gulp...I'm so nervous about actually letting other people read this...)**

**His Wyrda**

**Chapter 9**

For once, Eragon rose the next morning naturally, without having to fight off any crushing memories or panic-inducing visions. The sun's first rays streamed though the window on the east side of the room, and Eragon welcomed the warmth of the beams. He collected what few belongings he had spread throughout his temporary room and strode out to meet Saphira in the crisp morning air.

As they flew to their tree home to return Eragon's things, Saphira exuded strong feelings of self-contentment and pride. Amused, Eragon teased her, "What has you so joyful this morning?"

"_Oh nothing, little one. It is simply a beautiful morning." _Nothing he said could extract any information out of his dragon, so Eragon resigned himself to not knowing what Saphira was so satisfied about.

After resettling in their rooms, the pair flew to the center of Ellesmera. All around them, a strange sight met Eragon's eyes. Elves were organizing themselves for war. The usually peaceful race could be seen traipsing along with an armload of finely-crafted armor or a bundle of curved Elvin blades. To see the graceful, carefree elves with such violent tools of war affected Eragon more that he would have thought. His heart was saddened as he realized that much of their blood would be spilled to defeat Galbatorix.

As he approached the main pathway leading to Tialdari Hall, Eragon noticed a group of grim-looking elves. Their dress suggested a prominent position among their society, and all were armed as generals for battle. After following the curving path and drawing nearer to them, Eragon saw the figure they were all oriented around. Dressed in her traditional black leather, Arya stood proudly in the center of the half-circle of nobles as she intently explained some important thing or another to them.

Eragon considered how long it had been since the Elvin people had had contact with humans. He realized that most had been alive for the last battle against Galbatorix many decades ago, but still, that was a long while to forget the nature and tendencies of human soldiers. Arya would have her hands full with preparing the Elvin army for battle in only the next week.

When he and Saphira were only a few lengths from the group, Arya looked up at them distractedly. Then, she glanced over to them again as if just realizing who it was that was approaching. The princess acknowledged them briefly, but in all, appeared to be too busy to pay much attention to the two of them. Or at least that was the reason Eragon assumed until he glanced over at Saphira's smiling form. The huge smirk on her features rose immediate suspicion in his mind. Pulling her over to the side and placing his back to Arya, he hissed, "What did you do, Saphira?"

His dragon just chuckled humorously while looking past him. _"Arya is staring, little one." _

His cheeks flamed red as turned to face Arya's direction. The elf was indeed staring at the two of them with a blank mask on her features. Then, her gaze flitted up to Saphira. Eragon looked helplessly between the two of them, completely clueless about what was happening. Saphira let out a strange choking sound that he recognized as laughter, then began to walk away purposefully. Eragon turned back to look at Arya apologetically, but she had already resumed her exchange with the elves.

…

The rest of his time before the battle passed by rapidly with Eragon helping as much as he could in the elves' preparations. Mainly, he focused on regaining his energy lost from his last encounter with Galbatorix's forces. He spent some of his time with Oromis, giving him vague descriptions of his frequent relapses into Arya's memories. His master taught him several ways to block out and isolate the images, much like he had done when Eragon was inflicted with Carsaib's memories from slaying Durza.

The preparations continued until finally it was decided that the Varden and the elves would march at dawn on the day after tomorrow. For the past three days, Eragon had prepared as much as possible for the battle, but that had not stopped his mind from being preoccupied with Arya. He had seen her repeatedly throughout all the activities, but there never seemed to be a moment of time alone. Eragon did not want to create an issue where there wasn't one, but he could almost swear that Arya was purposefully limiting her time with him to always be in the presence of others. But the fact that they were never alone did nothing to ease the strange tension between the two of them. Eragon had to re-double his efforts to conceal his deep attraction to every move she made.

So it was on this day, two days before leaving for battle, that Eragon decided to have some type of confrontation with Arya. He knew that such a thing was not wise on the eve of battle, but he felt he would explode from the inside if his emotions continued to eat at him. No part of Eragon wanted the two of them to leave for war and possibly never see each another again without some sense of closure about their situation. Their relationship was balanced on the tip of a knife, and Eragon sensed that they had to face it soon before both of them fell off the edge.

Throughout the morning, there was no opportunity to speak with Arya as they distributed weapons to the last of the elves. On through the evening, Eragon began to get more and more nervous. At one point, he completely dropped a sword Arya had been handing him. An embarrassed flush spread across his cheeks as she stooped gracefully to pick it up and placed it slowly into his hand, the back of her knuckles brushing against his palm in the progress. He had murmured an apology and bolted from the room before he did anything rash.

It seemed like fate was against him for the rest of the day as they rushed to finalize everything. No matter how often he attempted to get a moment alone with Arya, she always had some activity to complete. One positive aspect was that they would have very little remaining to do tomorrow.

When the sun set deep in the sky, everyone finished their respective duties and set off to rest for the upcoming days. Saphira flew off to hunt for game deep in Du Weldenvarden, knowing that this evening and the following day would be her only opportunity to hunt anything of a decent size.

Eragon traveled restlessly through the dark paths of Ellesmera. The soft glow of the werelights lit the trails he followed with a muted red sheen. Endlessly, he debated with himself on the subject of Arya. Should he confront her or just leave things the way they were? Memories of the last several days shifted through his mind. _Her taunt expression in the middle of the night when she had woken him. Her rigid frame in the doorway as she whispered about her troubling consent. The electric tension between the two of them every time their bodies were close. _

So it was with these thoughts that Eragon found himself at Arya's front door. He made no move to knock nor did he call out, but all the same Arya's form appeared behind the screen door. She opened it silently, and he followed her into the dark living area. The only light was from a half dozen candles lit throughout the room and shining from inside her bedroom.

Arya made no move to sit down. She merely leaned back against the wall next to the open doorway to her bedchamber. All of his carefully planned conversations about their relationship fled from Eragon's mind as he stared at the object of all his undying affection. Ever since first laying eyes on her in his troubled dreams, he had been fascinated with her. But now as he looked deep into her eyes, he saw everything below the surface of her flawless skin and into the exquisite nature of her soul.

Her eyes were half-closed as Eragon approached her, moving ever so slowly. When he was only inches from her, he halted and let the now familiar tension flow over him. He sensed that she felt it too by the way she leaned back against the wall heavily and by the rapid increase in her breaths. A small piece of her long hair fell to the side of her face, and Eragon reached a hand up as if to brush it back, but instead he stopped his hand and left it to hover centimeters from her face.

Slowly, he allowed himself to trace the outline of her shoulder, never touching, but close enough to almost feel her skin. As he continued to lower his hand down the length of her arm, he whispered in a thick voice, _"Your consent…" _

His arm finally returned to his side as stared at the elf before him. Arya's eyes were completely closed now, and she was perfectly still. Eragon waited several long moments for any sign of a reaction, but there was none as she remained frozen. Slowly, he turned away from her to go. _He would keep his oath. _

But suddenly, her hand shot out and grasped his upper arm. Now, it was Eragon's turn to freeze. He turned back to her hesitantly, afraid yet hopeful for what he might see. Arya's eyes were still shut tightly, but Eragon recognized the hungry lilt to her face. So he waited. His entire body was tense as he searched for any sign that she wanted him to continue.

Finally, her hand tightened on his muscled arm and pulled him ever so slightly towards her. That was all the consent he needed. He cupped her face with his hand and brought his lips against hers forcefully. Arya grasped the material of his soft, yellow tunic and pulled him to her. All of Eragon's breath was knocked from him as her lips moved desperately against his own. His hands tangled in her silky hair as he frantically tried to eliminate any space that remained between them, and he pushed her back against the wall heatedly.

Arya's fingers traced every muscle of his arms and chest as she gasped against him. For a brief moment, he broke away from her to stare into her endless emerald eyes, and what he saw there caused his entire body to tingle with unbridled desire. He brought his lips down to the porcelain skin of her neck and trailed the soft expanse between her jaw and collarbone. Arya arched her head back, encouraging him to continue as she wrapped her fingers in the strands of his thick hair. Eragon shivered all over at the feeling of her fingertips massaging along his scalp.

Eagerly, he brought his lips back up to meet hers, and his mind whirled with every sensation of pleasure she was giving him. _This could not be happening. It couldn't be. _All coherent thought fled his mind as he felt the tip of Arya's tongue trace across the bottom of his lip. As she pushed his lips apart, Eragon's hands flew up to the back of her neck to pull her even closer.

If her scent was any indication of her sensuality, it was nothing compared to her _taste_. Their tongues danced wildly together as neither could get enough of the other to be satisfied. Eragon's blood pounded furiously in his veins with each time she touched him, and his entire body felt like it was on fire. Arya's knee hitched on Eragon's hip, and he slid his hand down the side of her thigh to press it tightly to him.

They stumbled back through the doorway into Arya's room until the back of her legs hit the edge of her bed, and both of them fell on it without ever letting go of one another. Having Arya beneath him only increased Eragon's desire, and his hands traced every line of her slim frame. The passion he felt with every move she made against him caused him to shudder violently.

He captured her eager lips with his own before he felt her smooth fingertips slip underneath his tunic and caress his bare skin. Smiling against his lips, Arya slid her hands up the tight muscles of his chest as he exhaled with pleasure. Without either realizing what they were doing, Arya pushed him up and hooked her fingers around the bottom edge of his tunic, and Eragon gladly helped her rid himself of it.

As the soft yellow fabric floated to the ground in the corner of the room, both of them stopped to realize the magnitude of what they were doing. Their hands still tangled around the other's heaving body, both turned to stare at the shirt crumpled on the floor. By simply removing Eragon's tunic, they had taken a step that could not easily be taken back. _How far was this going to go? _As Eragon returned his gaze to Arya, he immediately recognized the answer from the burning fire in her eyes.

His fingers traced the curves of her sculpted face gently as he looked at her with all of the love he had kept locked inside. Arya never took her eyes from him as she leaned forward with deliberate slowness and captured him in a deep, passion-filled kiss that let him know that she knew exactly what she was doing and exactly who she was doing it to.

Eragon melted against her, and his fingers slipped down the edge of her tunic and found the soft expanse of her skin beneath it. Panting heavily, he brought his hand up her back and over her smooth shoulder blades. With his other palm, he traced the flat surface of her stomach, then continued upward. Arya gasped at his tender touch.

When Eragon paused before going any further, she motioned with her eyes for him to continue. In one smooth motion, he rid her of the top completely and gulped with unbridled lust. Smiling at his reaction to her clothesless body, Arya pulled him down on top of her. Both shuddered at the feeling of skin on bare skin. Any self control either had possessed flew out the window as they both let the passion they had denied for so long to finally consume them.

From that moment on, Eragon needed no more encouragement from Arya as he let his powerful desires rule him. His hips grinded against her, and the fire that burst from inside him burned every inch of his skin. Arya let out a deep moan against the pleasure his tongue was giving her, and Eragon broke away from her momentarily to whisper, "Atra nosu waíse vardo fra eld hórnya."

Arya had looked up at him in surprise when he had halted, and she took in his mischievous expression as he warded all listeners from hearing them. Then, she realized his reason for doing so as soon as he slipped his hand underneath the band of her pants, and she let out a surprised moan. As his fingers deftly unfastened the claps of her pants, Arya arched herself above the bed to allow him to slip the material from her legs.

Upon seeing the unexplainable beauty of her uncovered body below him, Eragon desperately tried to unfasten his own now extremely restricting pants. Never before had he wanted any one thing so badly. He would have sold his soul to her if she had just asked it of him. He fumbled with undoing his own leggings because his hands had begun to tremble violently.

Arya gently brushed his fingers to the side and rid him of the pants quickly. Eragon let his body down on top of Arya's, but he kept most of his weight off of her with his elbows. His hands traced the curve of her delicate shoulder blades and over the tattoo of the yäwe on her shoulder as she kissed him passionately. Her hands wrapped around his strong shoulders while her lips brushed up and down his smooth chest. Everywhere her lips touched, a burning trail remained along his skin.

She angled her head back up to his again, and Eragon caught her lips as he allowed his body to lower between her open legs. Abruptly, Arya broke away from his kiss, and as her entire body tensed beneath him, she turned her face away from him quickly. Eragon froze.

Arya's entire body shivered uncontrollably, and Eragon felt a burning rage build in him as he realized why. No one else would understand Arya's fear of physical intimacy, but Eragon comprehended fully. For the thousandth time, he cursed Durza's name to the foulest reaches of hell. He pushed away his rage as he read the utter shame in Arya's down turned face.

Gently, he placed his fingers on her jaw and brought her face back to him. She attempted to lower her gaze, but Eragon caught her eyes with his. The quivering insecurity in them sent an unbearable jolt of pain to his heart. With his eyes, he tried to show her exactly how much love and understanding he felt inside. Ever so slowly, he brought his lips down to hers, just barely touching her skin. He kissed her so softly that his lips just whispered against hers.

For a long moment, he sensed her uncertainty and embarrassment until she finally yielded to his embrace and forced herself to relax under him. Determined to give her the pleasure she deserved, Eragon consented to start all over again until she was truly comfortable beneath him. He would not force himself upon her like the malicious Shade had before him.

Arya tangled her fingers in his hair and stared at him in awe. Her expression plainly said that she could not believe that he still wanted her, even knowing how utterly broken she was inside. His tongue trailed up and down her stomach and between the valley of her breasts while he continued to caress her. With his every touch, Arya moaned against him, and Eragon had to force himself to calm down as he heard the pleading tone of her voice.

When he sensed that all thoughts of her torture had escaped her mind, he slipped his hand down between her thighs. As his thumb rubbed soothingly against her, Arya groaned loudly, and Eragon smiled, glad that he had already placed the spell to prevent others from hearing. He established a steady rhythm as he massaged her most sensitive areas with his fingertips until she was on the verge of begging him for more.

Arya grabbed at his shoulders, his neck, his hair- anything to distract herself from what he was doing to her. Eragon prolonged the moment teasingly until Arya sent him a glare that clearly meant, _Get in me now! _Eragon grinned as he gently lowered himself between her open thighs and slipped into her. He gave her a moment to become accustomed to his presence, then began to move slowly against her. For the first several moments, Arya simply gritted her teeth and grasped at his hair desperately. Then, finally she began to relax around him, and the things she began to do next took Eragon by complete surprise.

She curved her body around him in ways he never thought possible, and as she continued, he was thanking the gods for Elvin flexibility. Arya met his thrusts heavily as she increased the tempo of their love song. Waves of pleasure rippled through Eragon, and white started to fringe his vision. He stared down into her swimming emerald eyes with unbelieving shock at everything he was doing to the elf below him.

After so long of thinking her unattainable, this moment almost did not seem real. Arya smiled up at him as if realizing his thoughts and wrapped her arm around his neck to pull him down into a deep kiss. Eragon's breaths began coming in hard gasps, and he knew that he could only take so much more of the pleasure she was giving him.

Arya began to meet his thrusts with such force that he thought he would go insane. His eyes rolled back in his skull with each white-hot flash that accompanied each of his sheaths into her. Arya was crying out against him with every surge, and the sound of her pleading moans echoed in his ears, driving him to the brink of insanity. He could feel her coming against him, and with one last powerful thrust, his body released all of his need and passion into her. Arya's body arched back as Eragon's vision completely blacked out. He crashed against her with complete and utter content flowing through him as he lost all control over his body.

This is what he had wanted for so long- to be with the one woman he loved with every fiber of his being. Her hands ran up and down his slick back as they both struggled to recover their lost breaths. After a moment to collect himself, Eragon slowly slid out of her, causing Arya to gasp quietly.

He held her in his arms for another long moment in complete awe of the elf that had chosen to give herself to him. He could not take his gaze away from her scorching eyes that, for once, showed every emotion she was experiencing. Eragon felt almost drugged from looking at the unfathomable depth of those emerald eyes. Eventually, he rolled from on top of her to her side on the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her soft skin.

This once, Arya allowed herself to be held tightly, something that she had not permitted anyone to do for a very long time. She brought her head against Eragon's skin and pressed her lips gently to his chest. At his contented sigh, she moved closer to him and smiled against his hot skin. Bringing her lips up next to his ear, she whispered the three words that cemented this night as the best one of his entire life. _"I love you," _she breathed before closing her eyes.

His feeling at her words transcended all of those before. Eragon never would have believed her had he not seen the look in her eyes as she nestled herself beside him. This stoic elf, who never allowed anyone in, had finally made an exception to her own rule. She had allowed herself to fall in love with this brave-hearted boy. _No_, after tonight, he was much more than a man.

Eragon did not fall into his trance-like sleep until many hours later. He could not keep his hands off of her. Gently, his fingers brushed along every plane of her skin, and occasionally, Arya would moan quietly against him. His soft touch lingered over her usually covered skin, and his gentle fingers erased every memory that an evil touch had ever debased her flawless skin.

Eventually, he forced his body still to allow Arya to fall into her less-conscious state. For many long minutes, he simply stared down at Arya's soft form pressed against him, enthralled by her presence. He had never felt so complete in all of his time alive.

…

The next morning brought with it a sense of complete heaven. The early dawn's rays filtered down through the window peacefully, and the beams of light illuminated half of the bed with a soft effervescence. Eragon rose to full consciousness slowly, as he was reluctant to leave the perfect world of his dreams. But as he felt a light weight on his chest, he realized that his dream world was the same as his real one.

Arya was curled next to him with the side of her face pressed on top of his bare chest. Her arm encircled his waist loosely, and Eragon smiled at the way her body fit perfectly next to his own. Gently, he brushed his fingers through her long hair that was spilling down over his shoulders. He could not believe that he was holding the goddess on top of him. _The things she had done to him… _Arya may appear cold in her every day interactions, but the fire of her love-making was enough to consume any lesser man.

As he continued to pull his fingers through the silky strands of her hair, the beautiful elf shifted slightly on top of him. "Mmhh… that feels good…" Arya said slowly. Her cool breath against his skin sent shivers up Eragon's spine. He beamed at her as she propped herself up on one elbow to look at him.

Eragon stared at the woman that had hopelessly stolen his heart. Under his intense gaze, Arya looked down as her fingers fiddled with the barely visible golden hairs on his chest. In wonder, Eragon considered her with a bemused grin across his face. _After everything she had done with him the night before, how was it possible for her to still be modest under his steady gaze?_

Arya laid her head back on top of his chest while continuing to trace his skin with her fingertips. Eragon slipped his fingers through her hair as both of them relaxed into the sensation of waking up beside the other.

After the sun had risen slightly higher in the sky, Arya turned her head against Eragon's chest and pressed her lips along his skin. Eragon pulled her up to his face and bent his head down to hers with the honest intention of just kissing her lightly. His lips moved against hers softly for a few moments before he pulled back slightly. His face still inches from hers, Arya brought her mouth back to his, and Eragon's self-control vanished.

His arms slid around her and pulled her tightly to him. Arya did not seem to mind in the slightest as she squeezed her knees around his hips and opened her mouth to his eager tongue. Their passionate embrace continued for an endless time until they both broke away at the same moment, gasping for air. Eragon smiled at her as he pressed his lips to hers for a brief moment. He could definitely become addicted to that sensation every morning.

Arya pushed him away almost playfully before falling against the bed on her back. Eragon stared at her with poorly concealed wonder. This was a side of Arya that he had never seen before, and he believed that he loved this side most of all. She closed her eyes gently, then stretched her entire body like a cat before slipping out from under the sheets and striding across the room, independent as ever.

On her way to the doorway, she bent over lithely to pick up his disregarded pants and casually tossed them at him. Only reflexes saved Eragon from being hit in the face, for his gaze still remained on the doorway where Arya had disappeared from view. He collapsed back onto the bed after pulling on his leggings and listened to the sound of Arya preparing her bath in the wash closet.

Eragon stared at the ceiling in shock. He could not believe he was here- in Arya's bed, half-naked, and this early in the morning. Even more incomprehensible was the wonder that was last night. The tips of his ears turned bright red as he remembered all of the things he had done. From the moment his lips hit hers, all of his reasonable thoughts had fled. But he was not the only one who had done some surprising things last night… At those memories, more than just his ears was affected.

To busy himself while Arya finished bathing, Eragon got up and stretched, though without all the grace Arya had shown. He had just picked up his favorite yellow shirt from the corner of the room when he noticed Arya had returned and was watching him from the doorway. Self-consciously, he pulled the shirt over his head.

A bemused grin stretched across Arya's face as she strode over to him. Eragon just stood there unsurely. Arya stopped mere inches away from him as her eyes roved the entire length of his figure. She pressed her hands gently against his chest as she said softly with a teasing edge, "I just thought you should know, that I find this shirt to be _unbelievably_ appealing on you. It is responsible for some of my more rash decisions."

Eragon looked at her with surprise as he searched his memories for when he had last worn this shirt around her.

"Do you not remember the first time I invited you in?" she asked lightly.

Eragon grinned widely. "Of course." He wrapped his arms around her waist as she pressed her face against his chest. The moment stretched on in perfect bliss as Eragon buried his face in her wet hair and inhaled the enticing scent of pine needles that he had come to associate with complete rapture. A hesitant thought flickered across his mind, and he pulled back to look at her with troubled eyes. She met his gaze unwaveringly.

"Arya…" His voice shook unsteadily, and she looked at him encouragingly. "What you said last night…did you mean it?"

Her emerald eyes locked on his and burned with an unfathomable emotion, and her voice was serious as she told him steadily, "I did."

Then, she leaned forward until her lips barely brushed against his. Softly, Arya whispered against his mouth in the unbreakable tongue of the Ancient Language, "I love you, Eragon."

His fingers twisted in her damp hair and pulled her close to him as their embrace deepened. He would never let her go again.

…

**Umm...yeah, so there it is. I hope that you liked it because you have _no idea_ how long I spent on this chapter! Also, sorry if I offended anybody but really, I warned you. (and it could have been a lot more graphic...I thought about it, but decided that wasn't the tone I was going for.) **

**Like I promised, the epilogue is up, but WAIT! before you read it. Please, please review this chapter first! Tell me that it sucked or that you loved it, anything, just tell me _something_... **

**To my unbelievably amazing reviewers, here's a thanks to you: **Squealing Lit. Fan, my0t1, Inyaderm, YASHA3393, automaticsnow, Faerie of Murtagh, claire1992, mjmjmj, xlilypadsx, xXOcean-BabeXx, Lord Cornelius Ravencroft, Blackbird'292, xXxmaximuM-RideRXxX, Arya 4 ever., Vampyren

**And for all the people who have me on your alert/ fav. list: **AddieShepherd, Aervon223, Andlat Ebrithil, Arya 4 ever., Axilestyn, Aeronnen, Alyra90, Blackbird'292, claire 1992, Clairer55, Connor, Eragon n Murtagh, Faerie of Murtagh, Grimindome, Harbringer of Light, Invaderm, Julian Blake, KTHM, Lanslyna, Link Uzumaki, Lord Cornelius Ravencroft, Remote Difference, Ryder Blade, Scannlan, Social Bunny, Squealing Lit. Fan, XxXmaximuM-RideRXxX, , Du Moi abr Wyrda, YASHA3393,Youngk, acid2000, andrewTHATSME, automaticsnow, beta657, dragonlord9292, girlbrighteyes, japjapcat, ggggw4, my0t1, randomguy1517, seven losers and a monkey, xlilypadsx, and xXOcean-BabeXx.


	11. Epilogue

**His Wyrda**

**Epilogue **

The wind soared around them, howling its protests against the beats of Saphira's powerful wings. Far below, the Elvin ranks were filing out of the green expanse of Du Weldenvarden steadily. Eragon looked to the East where the first rim of the sun had just begun to appear in the sky. It would be a cloudless day, and he could see many leagues in every direction.

The awe-inspiring sight of the vibrant purple of the sky set against the cobalt above was amazingly beautiful. He would make a fairth of it upon returning to Ellesmera. And he _would_ return, this was just one of the many battles to come, and he and his dragon would face them all resolutely.

Eragon returned his attention to the figure nestled in the saddle in front of him. Her midnight black hair swirled around them from where it had escaped from under her leather headband. Dressed fully for battle, the Elvin princess sat proudly upon Saphira's glistening back.

When they had gained an altitude too high for them to be seen by the elves below, Eragon wrapped his arms lightly around Arya's delicate waist. He did this lightly because he was aware of the high importance she placed on her regal independence, and he loved the elf for it all the more.

She remained the same Arya he had always known- proud and stoic, fiercely loyal to her people and her cause, and unmatched in battle and grace. Now, he had just begun to discover the other glittering facets of her soul. As her lover, he knew the sound of her desperate whisper, the shy modesty she adapted when he stared too long at her in wonder after making love, and the way her eyes would flash when she told him again that she loved him.

He could not comprehend how he had managed to find the unbelievable woman before him. Unconsciously, Eragon's arms tightened slightly around her slim form. To his intense surprise, he felt Arya lean back almost imperceptibly against his chest. The gesture was a small one, and if anyone had been near enough to see, they never could have noticed. But to Eragon, it meant more than all the kingdoms of the world.

They were flying out ahead of the others to meet with Nasuada in person before the upcoming battle. It was also hoped that the arrival of a dragon rider and the Elvin ambassador would lift the spirits of the soldiers of the Varden and inspire them to victory in the nigh approaching attack.

The sun crept higher in the sky, and the royal purple melted into the deep cobalt of the atmosphere above. By the time the sun reached its highest point, there would be no turning back.

As his dragon soared high above the earth, Eragon thought of the many challenges he was about to face. A battle with Thorn and Murtagh was inevitable, and when the time came, would he be able to kill his own brother? The dwarves relied on him as a clan member of the Dûrgrimst Ingeitum, and his loyalty to Nasuada bound him to the Varden. He had many promises to keep and dozens of oaths to fulfill, and all of his obligations swam oppressively in his head.

The weight of the world pressed down on his shoulders, and Eragon knew that he would not be standing except for the support of those close to him. The feeling of Arya's smooth shoulder blades against his chest gave him the courage to fight his inner demons and the strength to challenge the outer ones.

He lowered his head onto Arya's shoulder lightly and whispered against her tunic and in her mind, _"Arya?" _

The beautiful elf glanced back to look at the dragon rider behind her. "Hmm?"

Eragon smiled at the warmth and concern evident in her voice. He tilted his head to her and brought his lips up to press lightly against the soft hollow just below her jaw. Having been caught by surprise, Arya's body shivered under his touch, and her lips parted slightly as the air rushed from her lungs. Eragon smiled at her pleasant reaction and returned his forehead to Arya's shoulder.

He murmured softly to her as much as to himself, "That's all I needed."

Then he inhaled a deep, confident breath and raised his gaze to the endless sky before them. His arms still encircling his love, Eragon squared his shoulders proudly and prepared to face his Wyrda.

_**The End. **_

**_--_**

**Author's Note: Sniff...I'm sad that its over... Well, it has been an amazing experience for me to write this story, and having all of you read it has only made it that much better. Please review, even if you haven't before because trust me, I read them all. **

**_(A little add in: I've been getting over 500 hits a day after finishing this story, and no one is reviewing anymore :( I hope that doesn't mean you didn't like it. Oh well, please leave me a review if you enjoyed my story!)_**

**Also, before you all come after me with pitchforks for ending it here, know this: I never wanted to write a Book 3 fic, simply because as soon as the real book comes out, mine would be pointless... My desire was to express how I see Eragon and Arya's relationship and how I _wish_ it would go. Hopefully, this story will still stand on its own even after Brisingr and Book 4. I might write another fic after Brisingr is released, but it all depends on what Chris P. comes out with...**

**To show my appreciation to everyone who has stayed with me through this whole story, here is... **

**A Tribute To My Loyal Reviewers: **

**--To claire1992:** My first reviewer ever! Without your review of Closer Beneath the Tree, I probably never would have gotten the courage to write this one. You've stuck with me through it all. Thanks!  
**--To mj: **The ever anonymous reviewer: May we never know anything about you. Your comments always made me feel wonderful, and the lengthy reviews were great!  
**--To Squealing Lit. Fan: **You're awesome! Having you as a reader made me want to step it up a notch. I've finished my story, so now all I have to do is sit around and wait for the next chapter of There You'll Be (nudges the fantastic author…)  
**--To XxXmaximuM-RideRXxX: **Thank you for forcing me to type out your ridiculously complicated screen name multiple times. (I finally realized how dumb I was not to copy and paste!) Anyway, you're great! Thanks for your support from the beginning.  
**--To xXOcean-BabeXx:**I always look forward to yours because you are _friggin_ hilarious!  
**--To andrewTHATSME: **I'm slightly worried about you and the mob with the torches…Oh well, thank you for always leaving great reviews!  
**--To xlilypads: **Much thanks to you for the long reviews. Loved them all!  
**--To Eragon n Murtagh, Du Moi abr Wyrda, and Faerie of Murtagh: **You all have left me consistent reviews this whole time, so you pretty much rock!  
**--To Aeronnen, Julian Blake, and oakel: **Ya'll were some of my first reviewers, and you gave me the confidence I needed!  
**--To YASHA3393: **Thanks for all the reviews, short and to the point!  
**--To Harbringer of Light, Social Bunny, automatic snow, and Clairer55: **I'm glad ya'll started reading my story. Thanks a ton.  
**--To BlackBird'292, Vampyren, Invaderm, and my0t1: **Your compliments made me feel all fluffy inside!  
**--To japjapcat, Scannlan, and Youngk: **Ya'll are fantastic! Thanks for the reviews.  
**--To ggggw4, Macsek92, and Alyra90: **Such sweet reviews, guys. I appreciate them.  
**--To randomguy1517: **You liked being mentioned before, so here you go: Thanks!  
**--To Druska41: **Um…brief but still encouraging…


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